Guardian
by rubycaspar
Summary: AU. John promises to be the Guardian of Teyla's baby, in case anything happens to her. When S&R doesn't go quite as planned, he suddenly finds himself with a baby to look after. Can he raise a child? Spoilers for series 4 and 5.
1. The Deal

John was reading in bed when his doorchimes sounded

_**Disclaimer – I own none of the Stargate franchise.**_

_A/N – I'm afraid I've had to put all of my stories on hiatus for now because my laptop has died on me, taking all of my fanfiction with it. Also, I only have access to a computer for an hour or so every day. :-( Anyway, I had the idea for this story before series five started, but purposefully left off starting it because I want it to be as in canon as possible. But it's not – it's canon up until halfway through Search and Rescue, and then veers wildly from there. I'm hoping to have the second chapter up tomorrow._

_There are general spoilers for series four and five in this story, and specifically for Quarantine and Sateda in this one. _

_**Chapter One – The Deal**_

John was reading in bed when his door chimes sounded. He quickly set aside _War and Peace_, frowning at the interruption. It was very, very late – which meant this probably wasn't good. He made his way across the room and swiped open the doors. They parted to reveal Teyla.

John's immediate reaction was to panic. "Teyla – are you okay? Is the baby coming? Are you – "

"John, I am fine," she said quickly, cutting him off. John shut up and just looked at her bemusedly, wondering what was going on. Teyla shifted her weight uncomfortably and ran a hand over her expanded stomach. "I just…may I come in?"

John nodded and stepped back to let her into his quarters. Her eyes swept over his messy bed sheets and looked at him apologetically. "I'm sorry, were you asleep?"

"No, I was just reading," John said. He gestured towards the couch and then followed Teyla over there. "What's up?"

Teyla lowered herself onto the seat and then sat silently for a few moments, staring at her hands. John sat down on his desk chair and watched her gather her thoughts, feeling increasingly more worried that something really was wrong. It wasn't often that Teyla Emmagen was at a loss for words.

Eventually, she spoke. "I have been thinking about what you said today." She looked over at him. "About my child always having a home on Atlantis."

John nodded silently, unsure of where she was going.

Teyla looked back down at her hands. "It meant a lot that you would say such a thing," she said. "I have been… worried, recently, about the fate of my son. Now that my people are… if something were to happen to me, he would be alone."

John shook his head and opened his mouth to refute her statement, but she looked back at him and gave him a small smile before he could. "I know that is not true," she said. "I know that you, and Ronon and Rodney, and many others would care for him. But I…"

Her voice trailed off and she went back to looking at her hands again. John remained silent; he could tell that Teyla was working up to something, and sure enough after a few moments she looked at him again.

"It is customary among my people for a child to have a Guardian," she told him. "Charin was mine. After my parents were killed, she cared for me as if I were her own." She paused. "I would like for you to be my son's."

For a moment, John was sure he had misheard her. "I… what?"

Teyla turned more towards him on the sofa and stared at him resolutely. Her hands were now completely still. "I would like to name you my son's Guardian," she repeated. "It means that if anything were to happen to me, he would be in your care."

John still wasn't following. "Like a godfather?" He asked.

Teyla looked thoughtful for a moment. "A little," she said. "It is more… do godparents care for the child if its parents are gone?"

"Well… no. Yes. Sometimes," babbled John. The full weight of what Teyla was asking him to do started to sink in, and he swallowed. "It's usually family…" He said in a very quiet voice.

Teyla gave him a small smile. "You are family, John," she said gently.

John's eyes widened and he had to look away from the intensity, the _sincerity _in her eyes. He remembered another conversation with her, over a year ago, when he had told her that she was his family and that he would do anything for her. He had meant it. He had also meant what he'd said about her child when they'd been stuck in McKay's lab earlier that day. So why was he hesitating now?

Because he was scared. John knew nothing – _nothing_ – about babies. Or children. Or… basically anything in the area of infants. He would be a _terrible _Guardian.

John looked back at Teyla's expectant face and leant forward in his chair, pressing his hands together and rubbing his palms together slowly. "Listen Teyla… are you sure you… want _me_ to do this?" He asked her.

Teyla didn't look surprised at the question, and she didn't hesitate in her answer. "Yes."

John gave her a pained look. "_Why_?"

Teyla smiled at that, obviously amused by his incredulity. John just watched her silently, waiting for her to answer. He really truly didn't understand her reasoning.

"As I said John, you are family," she said. "You have been there for me for four years now, and there is no one I trust more to look after my child if I am unable to do so."

John had started shaking his head halfway through her speech, surprised at the words coming out of her mouth, and Teyla noticed and sat back, looking a little crestfallen. "But a Guardian must be willing," she said. "And if you do not want to –"

"No, it's not that I –" John began. He didn't want to hurt Teyla's feelings… god, she paying him quite possibly the biggest honour she could here, and he was acting like a tool. But still… he swallowed. "Teyla, I don't know the first thing about raising a child," he said.

Teyla looked at him seriously again. "Neither do I," she said quietly.

"Teyla…"

"Everyone tells me that it comes naturally, and that I will be a wonderful mother," she said. "But the truth is I am terrified. And I believe I always will be."

Teyla finally looked away from John, down at her hands again, and he stared at the top of her head, his mind racing. He hated to see Teyla so on edge, and it seemed to be her permanent state of being at the moment. He wasn't exactly helping.

"Alright," he said.

Teyla looked up at him, and John nodded. "Alright, I'll do it," he told her. "If you really want me to… then yeah. I'd be honoured."

Teyla smiled – a beautiful, big smile that lit up her entire face – and John smiled back, feeling that it was worth all the discomfort in the world to have her smile like that. And he did feel uncomfortable – no matter what Teyla said, he couldn't help but feel she was making a mistake in choosing him.

"Just do me a favour," he said.

"Yes?"

"Don't make me have to take up my duties, okay?"

Teyla smiled again and nodded. "I have no intention of it," she said.

John nodded. "Okay then."

Teyla stood up – well, started to anyway, and then accepted John's hand to help her up out of her seat. His couch was pretty low. She gave him another smile as she let go of his hand and headed towards the door – John hadn't seen her smile so much since her people went missing, and he felt even better about agreeing with each new grin she gave him.

Teyla turned to face John again when she reached his door and for a moment he thought she was going to hug him again, but instead she placed her hands on his shoulders and lowered her head. He touched his forehead to hers obediently, thinking dryly that it was only right to seal an Athosian deal with an Athosian handshake.

Teyla gave him another smile as she stepped back. "Good night John," she said. John nodded and she opened the door behind her.

"Teyla – "

Teyla turned in the corridor and looked back at John. He stepped into the doorway, closer to her.

"You will, you know," he said. "Be a wonderful mother. You will."

Teyla didn't smile this time, but the appreciation and the trust emanating from her eyes was enough to tell John that she believed him. Or believed that he believed it. And, somehow, that look in her eyes made him feel even lighter than her smiles had done.

"Thank you, John," she said after a moment.

John nodded. "Sleep well, Teyla," he said. He stepped back into his room and let the door close, and then stood stock-still, straining to hear the sound of Teyla's footsteps moving away from him.

_Woah_.

John turned round and stared idly round his quarters. The echoes of the conversation he had just had seemed to be bouncing off the walls and into his brain.

He had just agreed to be her baby's Guardian. Again – _woah_.

John looked at the book lying open on his bed and smiled ruefully. He was going to have to read a lot of _War and Peace_ before he fell asleep tonight.

_TBC_


	2. Pain

Disclaimer – I own none of the Stargate franchise

Disclaimer – I own none of the Stargate franchise.

_This is where things start to go AU – and there are major spoilers for Search and Rescue in this chapter. __Thanks for the reviews for chapter one! Let me know what you think of this one – the first chapter is more like a prologue, and this is the start of the story. _

Chapter Two - Pain

"_You don't remember rescuing her because you didn't… just like you never rescued me." _

John's hearing returned first, the telltale beeps and hushed voices informing him that he was in the infirmary. The pain came second, informing him why. John kept his eyes closed, trying to piece together what had happened before he had to face the reality full consciousness would bring.

"Do you think he's okay?"

"Keller says he's fine."

It was Rodney and Ronon, and they sounded close by. It wasn't the first time John had been woken up like this, with his team-mates talking about him.

"But he'll need to be fed soon – right?"

"I guess."

Well, that was one John hadn't heard before.

"So what do we do?"

"Feed him."

"When? Now? And _how_? I –"

"Shut _up_ McKay."

John frowned and opened his eyes a crack. Sure enough, Rodney and Ronon were standing at the foot of his bed, turned slightly away from him. Rodney's shoulders were slumped; Ronon looked like he was about to snap. As John watched, the Satedan turned to Rodney.

"Sorry," he said gruffly.

Rodney shook his head. "It's okay," he said in a low voice. "I just… need to talk."

"I know."

John blinked a few times and opened his eyes fully, his frown deepening. Now that he could see them properly, he could see that Rodney and Ronon both looked incredibly weary and sad. He could also see, now, that they weren't paying any attention to him.

John barely had time to wonder who they _were _looking at when his question was answered – by a baby's cry. Rodney and Ronon both started forward, looking panicked, and John sat up suddenly. Pain lanced through his side and he cried out and fell back against his pillows. With the pain came memory, and with memory came more pain.

He had failed. He had failed to save Teyla. They had had to leave her behind, with Michael, and then the cruiser had been destroyed.

John's chest felt very tight all of a sudden, and he forced himself to take a deep breath. He shut his eyes tight against the pain and the memories, but both continued to flood him.

He had been so close to getting her out of there. They had disabled the hyperdrive so that the cruiser couldn't go anywhere, they had got Teyla out of her cell, and Rodney, amazingly, had delivered the baby. They had met Kanaan, and he'd suggested the darts as a means of escape – John had thought it was a good idea; after all, it wasn't the first time he'd transported his team somewhere inside a Wraith dart.

Damn it. If he'd only stuck with Rodney's original plan, everything would have been fine. He was so _stupid_. Michael, of course, had figured out that that would be John's preferred means of escape, and they'd been ambushed in the dart bay. It had been deserted when they'd arrived, and if John had had any sense he would have been suspicious. But he hadn't been – he'd been too worried about Teyla's condition and making sure her baby was alright. And keeping an eye on Kanaan, to make sure he wasn't going to turn on them suddenly. They had decided it would be stupid to store the baby in the dart, and so Teyla had handed him to John. John remembered the strange mix of wonder and anxiety he'd felt when he'd held Teyla's baby – the boy had been awake, but not crying, and had looked up at John with questioning deep blue eyes. John had adjusted Rodney's jacket around his tiny body and made sure he was secure in his arms… and had been caught completely off-guard. He'd heard the sound of a wraith blaster and Ronon yell something, and by the time he'd looked up Kanaan was unconscious and Michael was standing next to Teyla, a blaster pressed against her temple.

Dozens of Michael's hybrids had appeared as if from nowhere, lining up behind their master and firing their blasters. The baby had started crying, squirming in John's arms, and it was all he could do to hold onto the boy, let alone reach for his gun. He could only dive behind a nearby dart, Rodney and Ronon covering him and then joining him, both firing their guns at the hybrids. But it was no use – Michael was using Teyla as a shield, and there were just too many of them. They were overrun.

The baby was still crying, Rodney and Ronon were still shooting, but over all the noise John had still heard Teyla's voice calling to him desperately.

"John! Get out! You have to get out! You must save my son!"

John had peered round the dart and seen that Michael had an arm wrapped firmly around Teyla's shoulders from behind, and was still holding his blaster to her head. She was struggling, but his grip on her was like a vice – and even if she had got away from him, there were still at least six hybrids between her and John.

The baby had still been crying.

"JOHN!"

"There are more coming," Rodney had said from beside John, taking a break from firing to look at the lifesigns detector.

"We can take them," Ronon had growled.

"A lot more," Rodney had said. "From all directions."

"JOHN! GET HIM OUT!"

John had sworn, loudly, hugging the crying baby close to his chest. His head had been racing – his instinct was to get to Teyla, to fight with everything he had in him to get her away from Michael. But there were too many of them, and he was injured, and her baby was crying in his arms. And John had seen for himself what Michael wanted to do with the baby.

"There's a data terminal across the corridor," Rodney had said. "If we go now I can still get us out of here before we're overrun."

"JOHN! GO!"

John had looked at Rodney, still firing his P-90, and at Ronon, who had a look of grim determination on his face. The latter caught his eye, and John had watched his face quite literally crumple at the realisation of what they had to do.

John had swallowed hard, absolutely hating himself for what he was about to say. But the fact was that he couldn't let Michael take him. He had to protect Teyla's son.

"Lead the way, Rodney," he'd said.

"Sheppard, are you alright?"

John was pulled back to the present by the sound of Rodney's voice much closer than before, and felt a hand on his shoulder. He opened his eyes again – Rodney and Ronon were now standing either side of his bed, near his head. John looked past them, across the room – Keller was now holding the baby, and his cries had quietened.

"Is he okay?" John asked. He wasn't surprised to find that his voice sounded hollow, because that was how he felt.

"Keller says he's fine," said Ronon.

"You still need surgery," said Rodney. "They've given you a transfusion, and they were waiting for you to wake up."

John nodded silently, his eyes still fixed on Teyla's son. He was safe here, among people who could look after him. He had got him away from Michael, and Michael was now dead, thanks to Caldwell. John knew that, eventually, he would come to think of these events as good, but right now he couldn't think of anything but the price he'd had to pay to bring them about.

Teyla was dead.

Keller took the baby – quiet now – into the next room, nodding to John as she left to indicate she'd be back to see him. John didn't care if he didn't get his surgery now; having internal bleeding felt oddly appropriate.

Rodney and Ronon sat down on either side of him, but neither spoke – they seemed to be waiting for John to say something first. They would be waiting a long time, though, because there was nothing for John to say. Nothing mattered enough to John to talk about. He laid his head back and stared up at the infirmary ceiling.

He'd failed. Again. He hadn't saved Teyla.

"_I knew – I knew you would come for me, John." _

John closed his eyes as a single tear slid down his cheek.

_TBC_


	3. A Decision

_Well, thanks for all the reviews so far – I'm glad that you all seem to like the idea for this story. Of course, most of you also expressed your sadness over what I've done to Teyla… sorry about that, but it was necessary for the story. Trust me, I'm a fanfic writer. :P __If you don't like angst, this chapter's going to be pretty hard work…_

_Let me know what you think._

**Chapter Three –**** A Decision**

John was always glad to get out of the infirmary, but never more so than a week after his surgery, when Keller finally allowed him to escape her confines. It had been the most unbearable seven days of his life.

To start with, the first thing he'd heard after waking up from his surgery was that Sam had left Atlantis and wouldn't be coming back. If that wasn't bad enough, the news was that she was being replaced by Mr Woolsey, of all people. Barely an hour ever passed in which Rodney didn't stop by to rail about the ignorance of the IOA. John let him talk, and though he agreed with a lot of what he said he didn't offer up any opinions of his own – instead, he mostly stared across the room, at the crib that had been set up almost directly opposite his bed.

Teyla's baby was still in the infirmary. Keller repeatedly assured John and everyone who came by the infirmary that he was perfectly fine, but he still remained. Keller said it was for observation, but John knew differently – the fact was, there was nowhere else for him to go. His mother was dead, his father was dead, and all that was left of his people were being kept on the mainland until it could be ascertained they were no longer under Michael's control. There had to be a discussion, as serious discussion, about what to do with the baby, and soon, but clearly no one wished to breach the subject first.

Pretty much everyone in Atlantis came by the infirmary to see the baby. In John's experience people tended to make a lot of noise around babies – pulling faces and saying things like 'coo' – but Teyla's son's visitors were almost always silent. It was as though by coming to see her son they were paying their final respects to Teyla, and John's heart twisted within him every time he saw the grief on someone's face as they silently looked down into that crib.

John himself kept his distance from the baby – well, as much as he could keep his distance, being in the same room. He hadn't touched him since beaming onto the Daedalus.

He kept remembering the conversation he'd had with Teyla, that night she'd come to his quarters. He'd promised her that if anything should happen to her he would look after her son. He'd said he'd give him a home on Atlantis, make sure he was cared for. He'd said he'd be his Guardian. The conversation tormented him. It wasn't that he hadn't meant it – at the time, he'd meant every word. But that was the problem – time had moved on, and brought with it such a harsh reality that John didn't know how _he _would endure it, let alone look after a baby.

He had no idea how to raise a child. He'd never fed a baby, or burped a baby, or changed a diaper. And aside from that, how was he supposed to give a baby what it needed most – love? John felt hollow, completely spent, and didn't know how he was meant to feel anything ever again. It was just too much for him. He couldn't replace Teyla – he couldn't even try.

So, being in the infirmary was acutely torturous for John, and he was up, dressed, and out of the door within five minutes of Keller telling him he was ready to leave.

It would be at least another fortnight before John would be able to return to active duty, but that didn't mean he had nothing to do. Technically, John was in command of the city until Woolsey arrived on the Daedalus, and while he usually abhorred overseeing the administration of the base, right now he was glad of the distraction. He went almost straight to Sam's old office – which had been cleared of her personal items – and set to work on all the paperwork that had accumulated in her absence. If people thought it strange that he was working so diligently on something he had previously done his best to avoid no one ever said anything, and there were times when John almost forgot that absolutely everything had gone wrong.

About three days after he'd set up camp in the administration office, Rodney and Ronon came to see him. This wasn't an unusual occurrence – one or both of them swung by several times a day, invariably to try and get him out of there, or to bring him food – but John could see straight away that this time they had something important to talk to him about. With a sinking heart, John guessed that the subject would be the infant in the infirmary.

"Hey – we were just talking… well, we were eating, and the subject came up," started Rodney, looking highly uncomfortable. "And we were talking… wondering…"

"What are we gonna do about the baby?" Cut in Ronon bluntly.

John sighed and sat back, gesturing for his friends to sit down. He didn't like them looming over him – it felt as though they were judging him. Neither knew about the deal he had made with Teyla, but John still felt that they had expected him to do something sooner, if only as the temporary base commander. As he should have.

"Keller's observing him," said John.

"She won't be for much longer," said Rodney. "She says he's perfectly healthy."

"He can't stay in the infirmary forever," added Ronon.

"No," said John quietly. "He can't."

"The thing is, what do we do?" Asked Rodney. "And is it even up to us? It's not like Teyla made plans for… for if this happened."

"Actually…"

John wasn't sure what had possessed him to speak up, and as soon as he had he wished fervently that he hadn't. Both Rodney and Ronon raised their eyebrows at him, and John knew it was time to face the music.

"Did she say something to you?" Asked Rodney.

John sat forward – slowly, so as not to stress his stitches – and leaned his elbows on the desk. "A couple of months ago, Teyla asked me to be her baby's Guardian," he told them.

Both Rodney and Ronon looked surprised, but Ronon especially looked shocked. "His _Guardian_?" He questioned.

John nodded as Rodney cut in. "Why didn't you say anything?" He demanded.

John ran a hand through his hair and then sat back again, ignoring Rodney's question. That wasn't the question that mattered.

"I think," he said slowly, "that he'll be best off among his people."

"You want to send him to live with the Athosians?" Ronon asked.

John looked at him seriously. "I think it's what Teyla would want," he said. Ronon opened his mouth as if to say something, but seemed to think better of it and just shrugged instead, his face impassive. John looked over at Rodney – he looked pretty doubtful.

"We don't even know if the Athosians will recover fully," he said reproachfully.

"Obviously I don't mean right _now_," said John, rolling his eyes. "But Keller says they're all responding well to treatment. And anyway, most of them were hardly experimented on at all, and are already back to normal."

"They're not back to normal," said Ronon. "I don't think they ever will be."

John was silent for a moment, feeling the truth of this statement. They were severely diminished in number, and had been held captive for almost a year. They'd been experimented on and killed, caged like animals. They'd been forced to kill and torture one another. They had lost their leader. No, they probably never would be the same again. But still – they were his people, and the one thing John was sure of was that Teyla would want her baby to know his heritage. It was for the best.

"I'll go to the mainland and make arrangements," John said. "I've been meaning to go anyway. I'll speak to Halling about the baby, and he can stay in the infirmary for a little while longer, until we've sorted everything out."

His two friends were silent, both staring at him across the desk. "It's for the best," John insisted.

They were still silent, and so John drummed his fingers on the desktop and then gestured to the files on one side of it. "I've got a lot to do," he said pointedly. He half expected them to stay and try to talk him out of his decision, but they didn't – both stood up silently and made their way to the door. Rodney exited and started across the bridge but Ronon paused in the doorway, looking back at John.

"Make sure you're sure John," he said seriously. "Because if Teyla made you his Guardian, it's up to you." Then he turned and walked away, leaving John alone to think over what had just happened.

John tried to work for the rest of the day, but found it hard not to dwell on his decision. He really felt that leaving the baby to be raised by the Athosians was best for everyone. He would learn his heritage and grow to honour the memory of his mother, and the Athosians would have an Emmagen among them again. John would still be able to visit him and make sure he was okay – in all probability the Athosians would be living on the mainland or Atlantis for the foreseeable future anyway. He'd still be able to look out for the kid. He was sure that if the Athosians had been around when Teyla was pregnant she would have asked one of them, and not John, to be the Guardian. And now that they were back, he was just restoring things to how they should be.

It was for the best.

Still, John found himself wandering the hallways late that night. Most of the city slept, and John walked silently through the moonlit corridors, his mind turning the situation over, over and over again. Eventually, he made his way to the infirmary. It was mostly deserted – the duty nurse and duty doctor were sorting through supplies in one of the small rooms at the back, and a coffee mug and open laptop told John that Keller was probably still around somewhere. John hoped she wasn't where he was heading for, and luckily found the room that held the sleeping baby empty apart from him.

John took a deep breath and walked over to the crib, taking care to be as quiet as possible. He stopped next to it, and peered down at the baby. It had been a week-and-a-half since John had looked at him properly, and he could see that he had grown. He was wearing a white onepiece suit, and had a blue blanket pulled up around his middle. He lay flat on his back, his tiny face turned towards John, and his eyelids flickered slightly, his eyelashes casting small shadows on his cheeks.

He looked like Teyla. John felt that, maybe, it was his mind playing tricks on him, but that didn't matter – even if he didn't _really_, right then he did look like Teyla, even in sleep, and John's chest tightened with grief. For over a week he had been doing everything in his power to stop himself thinking of Teyla. It was too painful for him; far too painful. She was dead, and it was his damn fault. He had failed to save her and now her son was going to have to live his life as an orphan.

John had never felt as useless as he did at that moment, staring down at Teyla's baby. There was nothing he could ever do to make up for what he had done. He'd left her behind to die on Michael's cruiser; an ignoble death for so extraordinary a woman. The most extraordinary woman he had ever known, or would ever meet. He had failed to save her, or even to let her know how much she had meant to him, and now he was failing her son, too.

The crib blurred as John's eyes filled with tears, and he closed them, trying to stop his thoughts. He couldn't though – nor could he stop his tears. They trailed down his cheeks, one after the other, while Teyla's baby slept on unaware of the sorrow his life would hold. John sank down onto the chair next to the crib and let his head fall into his hands as his shoulders shook with silent sobs.

Ford. Elizabeth. Carson. _Teyla_. All of Atlantis looked to John for guidance, for help… but he couldn't even help his friends. His family. He had failed them all, and this latest failure cut him deep, especially since, right in front of him, there was such a tacit reminder of how disastrously he had failed.

John stood up again, and wiped his eyes with his sleeves, staring down into the crib once more. The baby still slept.

"I'm sorry kid," John whispered, his voice still thick with emotion. "I'm just so sorry."

And with that, he turned away. He had to get out. Get out of sight of Teyla's son, out of the infirmary… out of Atlantis.

_TBC_


	4. The Mainland

_Thanks again for all the reviews – just so you all know, the laptop's still broken :( I think I'm doing pretty well with updating this story, considering! I hope you like this chapter._

**Chapter Four – The Mainland**

The Athosians that they had managed to save were being in kept in a compound on the mainland, about an half an hour's puddlejumper ride from Atlantis. A small contingent of marines and a medical team were also in residence there, and Dr Keller visited them every other day. They were all responding well to treatment, though it seemed that most of those they'd recovered hadn't been too far under Michael's influence. Unfortunately, most of those that were had died with him.

John had been meaning to visit the mainland since he'd gotten out of the infirmary, but his guilt over his role in Teyla's death was too still acute for him to be able to face the Athosians up until now. For the sake of her child, though, he was going to go and talk to them. It was, quite literally, the least he could do.

John left Atlantis just after sunrise the day after he'd spoken to Rodney and Ronon. He hadn't gotten any sleep after visiting Teyla's son in the infirmary, thinking about the conversation he was going to have with Halling. He still thought that he was doing the right thing, but he kept thinking about what Ronon had said to him: 'make sure you're sure'. He was 95 percent sure already – he just needed that extra 5.

At least by leaving early John had managed to avoid seeing Rodney or Ronon. Knowing them, they probably would have wanted to come along, and this was one journey John wanted to make alone. He radioed the mainland to let them know he was on his way, pointed the jumper in the right direction, and then sat back in the driver's seat, stretching out his legs in front of him. The sun was almost fully risen now, and there was still a pinkish tinge to the few clouds in the sky. John stared straight ahead as he drew nearer to the mainland.

He hadn't forgotten what he'd thought as he'd left the infirmary the night before – hadn't stopped thinking about it, in fact. He had to get out of Atlantis. Everywhere he looked he saw reminders of what had happened, and it wasn't that he wanted to _forget _what had happened – he wouldn't be able to, anyway – but he wouldn't be any use to anyone in the state he was in. As soon as Woolsey arrived and settled in, he was out of there. He'd go to Earth for some R&R… and when he felt ready to come back, he would. Probably.

Eventually he sighted land and directed the jumper towards the compound. It was basically a large, fenced area between the coast and the forest, with a medical facility, a bunkhouse, and tents for the Athosians. There was a puddlejumper already on the ground, and John landed his next to it. He sat still for a moment, staring at the wooden fence in front of him, and then got to his feet with a sigh. Show time.

Lieutenant Anders was approaching as John lowered the back hatch. He waited for the Lieutenant to reach him, and took the opportunity to look around the compound. There was smoke rising from several of the tents and the bunkhouse, and he could see Dr Ilsey through one of the plastic windows of the medical centre. John couldn't see any of the Athosians, but knew that at this time of the day they would probably be in their tents, drinking tea. John's chest tightened at the memory that thought brought on, and he focused on the marine in front of him.

"Good morning, Sir," Anders said, walking up the ramp of the jumper. "It's good to see you on your feet again."

John gave the Lieutenant a tight smile. "Morning Lieutenant," he said. "How goes it?"

"We're on track, Sir," said Anders. "Dr Ilsey says all of the Athosians should make a full recovery, and I can definitely see an improvement in the worst of them." Anders looked around the jumper and frowned slightly. "You came alone, Sir?"

John nodded. "Dr Keller is flying over later today," he said. "I just came to check on things, and speak to Halling."

"Yes Sir," said Anders. "I should think he's in the main tent – the Athosians like to drink tea at this time of day."

John had to look away from the Lieutenant's innocent expression as his chest tightened once again. "Yeah, I know," he said. He cleared his throat and nodded to the eager young marine. "Alright, carry on Lieutenant."

Anders saluted as John walked past him and out of the jumper. The main tent was obvious – it was twice the size of any of the others, and it was one of the few to have smoke rising from it. Atlantis had done all it could to make the Athosians as comfortable as possible – Keller had told John that it had as much to do with aiding their recovery as anything else. This meant traditional tents, and clothing, and supplies; and John could smell the result as he stood outside the main tent. He hadn't drunk Athosian tea in many months. John could hear the murmur of low voices and the clink of crockery coming from within, and John was reminded sharply of the first time he'd approached an Athosian tent.

John had been certain that this would be a difficult conversation, but hadn't prepared himself for the onslaught of memories being in the compound would bring with it. It wasn't Athos or even New Athos, but it was still Athosian. And everything reminded him of Teyla.

John took a deep breath and, remembering his first visit to Athos all those years ago, raised his voice so they would be able to hear him in the tent. "Er, it's Colonel Sheppard," he called. "Can I come in?"

There was a sudden hush inside, and it was Halling's voice that answered. "Enter." With another deep breath, John pushed aside the flap of the tent and stepped inside. There were half a dozen Athosians in the tent, sitting around a low-slung table. They all turned to look at him as he walked in, and John stopped just inside, staring round at them all. He swallowed, trying to calm himself, and trying to stay in the moment. It was so hard not to be transported back to the moment he had first met Teyla.

Halling stood up and bowed his head. "Good morning, Colonel," he said.

John cleared his throat. "Good morning," he said. "Er… Halling, could I have a word with you?"

Halling looked a little surprised, and turned away from John to look round at the other Athosians. John glanced at them, and saw that they were a group that he knew by sight but not by name. Now that he thought about it, he didn't know many of them by name… and most of those he had known were now probably dead. John looked away, his eyes taking in the details of the tent. He saw that there were several cots in the room, indicating that the tent wasn't just used for meetings.

"Shall we take a walk?" Halling said, suddenly appearing next to John. John nodded, bowed his head to the remaining Athosians, and followed the man outside.

Halling led the way through the tents, towards a large clear area at the front of the compound, nearest the ocean. They walked past the medical centre and the bunkhouse, and past the jumpers. They were silent as they walked – John wondering how to begin the conversation, and Halling probably wondering what John wanted. Or wondering at his nerve, showing his face around here after what he'd done.

How the Athosians must hate him. They had every right to.

Halling stopped near the fence and turned to face John. "I was told you were injured, Colonel," he said. He smiled at him. "It is good to see you well."

John paused, surprised. "Thanks, Halling," he said sincerely. "Likewise. Er, how's Jinto?" He knew the boy had been experimented on more than his father, but hadn't been turned into a full hybrid. Thank god.

Halling nodded. "He is well, thank you Colonel," he said. "He still sleeps this morning – his treatment makes him weary – but he is well."

"Good," said John. There was another pause, in which John tried to gather his thoughts. Halling was being much nicer to him than he'd expected – he'd thought that the man would despise him now. His politeness made what John had to ask a whole lot easier, anyway. "Listen, I came to talk to you about… about Teyla's son," he said. He watched Halling's face grow sad at the mention of Teyla's name, but there was no trace of blame in his eyes. John realised that he must not know the whole story of what had happened on the cruiser.

Halling was waiting for John to continue, and he recollected himself. "I thought that, well, that you might want to have him here," John said. He paused, looking round the compound, and gave Halling a wry look. "Well, not _here_, but, you know, when you're all out of here… I think it would be for the best if he came to live with the Athosians."

There. He'd said it. It was best for everyone, especially the kid. So why did he suddenly feel like crap?

Halling nodded. "I see," he said. He didn't sound surprised. It occurred to John that he and the rest of the Athosians had probably been expecting to look after the baby. Still, John felt the need to explain himself.

"I mean, he _is _Athosian, and I'm positive that Teyla would want… that she would have wanted him to learn about his heritage," John said. His voice trailed off towards the end of the sentence, and he looked back towards the tents.

"Of course," agreed Halling.

John looked back at him. "Would that be okay?" He asked meekly.

Halling smiled, a little sadly. "Of course, Colonel," he said. "Teyla's son would be most welcome among us, and we would care for him in every way he needs."

John nodded. "Good." He sighed. "Good."

Halling narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. "This is a decision that has given you some pain, I believe," he said gently.

"No," said John automatically, before reconsidering. "Well, yeah," he admitted. He sighed again. "It's been hard. Teyla asked me to be his Guardian, and –"

Halling's eyes widened. "Did you accept?" He asked seriously.

"I… yes," answered John, a little taken back by Halling's suddenly urgent tone. "What?"

The look Halling gave John was intense. "It is customary for the child to remain with his Guardian, when both parents are lost," he said bluntly.

John swallowed. "It is?"

"Yes," came the firm reply. For the first time since the conversation started, there was something that looked like reproach in Halling's eyes. "The role of Guardian is a sacred one, and not to be discarded lightly."

John stared at him. "I'm not _discarding _it, I just…" John's voice trailed off since really, when all was said and done, that's exactly what he _was _doing. It was why, though he thought that being with the Athosians was probably best for the baby, he felt terrible about it. He'd told Teyla he would do something, and he wasn't doing it. But there were circumstances that Halling didn't understand.

"Halling, I'd make an awful Guardian," John said seriously.

Halling's expression softened slightly, but not much. "Teyla obviously thought otherwise," he said.

John shook his head. "Teyla didn't – she didn't really have a choice," he said. "You were all missing and… I'm sure if you were all there, she would have chosen an Athosian to be Guardian. Not me."

She wouldn't have. There was no way. Why the hell would she want him? There had been no other choice. Now there was. It was for the best.

Halling was still staring at him intently, and still looked reproachful. "We may have been missing when she asked you, Colonel, but Teyla has… had many friends throughout the galaxy," he said. John winced at the mention of Teyla in the past tense, and looked away as Halling continued. "Friends who have known her from childhood, and know the ways of the Athosians."

John took a couple of steps away from Halling, towards the fence. He didn't want to be hearing this – it was making him rethink things, and feel guilty… and he had enough to be feeling guilty about. He'd made his decision, goddamnit!

Halling was still talking. "Any of these friends would have gladly taken the role of Guardian. They would have been honoured to care for Teyla's son, and teach him the ways of Athos."

John didn't even need to look back at Halling to see the reproach now – he could hear it in his voice. He took Halling's meaning plainly – that he, John, should feel honoured that Teyla had asked him to be Guardian. That he had agreed to do it, and should keep his word.

"She chose you." Halling took a step closer to John. "By choosing you to be Guardian, she was declaring that of all the people she knew, she most trusted you to care for her son, and to raise him to be a good man," he said, in a gentler tone.

John closed his eyes tightly, placing a hand against the fence to steady himself. "How am I meant to look after a baby, Halling?" He asked. "I couldn't even… I couldn't look after her."

Halling paused before answering. "Ronon told me what happened aboard Michael's ship," he said, much to John's surprise – he felt sure that Halling couldn't have known the details of the botched rescue, to be acting so kindly. But if Ronon had told him… he wouldn't have left out details.

"It was not your fault," said Halling firmly. John opened his eyes and turned his head slightly to look at Halling – he looked completely earnest. "You saved her son, and Dr McKay explained to me what Michael's plans for him were. By saving the baby you thwarted his plans and destroyed him." John nodded; he knew that saving the baby from Michael's clutches had been a great good, but it wasn't something he could rejoice in just yet, considering its terrible price.

Halling paused once more, and gave John a small smile. "And you acted exactly as a Guardian ought to," he said.

John had to look away again. He was still so unsure – unsure of his capability, or of his worthiness.

He heard Halling sigh. "If you still feel that you cannot remain his Guardian, I and the rest of the Athosians will be honoured to care for the son of Teyla and Kanaan," he said, his voice sounding slightly reproachful and brusque again. "But I hope you reconsider, Colonel. It is what Teyla wanted, and in her last moments I am sure she was comforted by the knowledge that you would keep your word."

_That you would keep your word_. Damn it. He had made a promise, and he was breaking it. He had said that he would look after her son, and give him a home, and he was turning his back on him because he felt sorry for himself. He completely understood why Halling sounded so disappointed in him – this was something he could choose, could control, and he was choosing the coward's way out.

_Her last moments_. How John remembered those. The sound of her voice screaming his name, begging him to save her son, filled his head both night and day. She had believed he would get him out, and she had believed he would look after him.

He would. He had to. He'd let Teyla down. He'd failed her… if he failed her in this too, by _choice_, he wasn't a man. He wasn't anything.

Tears filled John's eyes as he stood up straight and turned to look at Halling. He straightened his shoulders and opened his mouth, but found he couldn't speak. Instead he just nodded his assent.

Halling smiled understandingly, and clasped John's right shoulder with his right hand. "I will do all I can to assist you, and I hope that you will bring the child to see us often," he said, with no trace of anything but kindness in his voice. "As you say, it is important that he learn his heritage."

John nodded again. "I will," he said after a moment. He glanced over at the tents, so few in number, their inhabitants so touched by grief, and had to wipe a couple of tears away. "Halling I'm sorry," he said. "For everything."

Halling squeezed his shoulder and let go. "I know," he said. "So am I."

John gestured to the jumpers. "I should get going," he said. "I, er, have a baby to look after." He tried to smile but couldn't – his decision might have been made, but that didn't mean it didn't scare the hell out of him.

Halling smiled again. "I hope we see you again soon, Colonel," he said sincerely. "Jinto will be very sorry to have missed you."

John nodded. "I'll come back in a few days…" he said, taking a few steps backwards, towards his jumper. He paused. "And I'll bring the baby."

Halling's smile widened. "We shall be very glad to meet him," he said.

John stopped walking and gave the man a grateful look. "Thanks Halling," he said.

Halling bowed his head graciously and John turned and walked, then jogged, then ran back to the jumper.

He had a _lot _to do.

_TBC_

Up next – John tells the others his decision.

TEYLA: …at three weeks, the infant is officially welcomed into the community in a ceremony attended by all Athosians. Then, two months later, we observe the Rite of Parkii in which the child receives the blessings of our ancestors and is gifted with a stone of fortune that will remain with him until he comes of age and is finally ready to forge his own destiny.

Off Ronon's look -

TEYLA: At six months, a feast is held in the child's honor commemorating the Athosian spirit as embodied in the warriors of tomorrow. Then, we have another feast three months after that.

RONON: And what's the occasion there?

TEYLA: The fact that it will be three long months before the next celebration.

Ronon nods. Makes perfect sense.


	5. Breakfast

Chapter Five – More Decisions

_Thanks again for the reviews – I'm glad people are sticking with this idea! __This chapter was going to be longer, but I like the way this ends so I thought I'd just upload it as is. Consequently, it's pretty short. Enjoy, anyways! _

**Chapter Five – Breakfast**

As the jumper got closer to Atlantis John thought of more and more things that he had to do before he could even think about taking the baby into his care. Just because he'd made the decision to step up and look after the kid didn't mean that he suddenly knew _how_, or that he had the paraphernalia needed. Most people had nine months to prepare themselves and their homes for a baby – John was pretty sure that a skateboard, a guitar, a set of golfclubs and a stack of Johnny Cash CDs weren't requisite baby-rearing tools.

John knew where he could find all of the things he needed, and the thought of going to get them was not a happy one. But he had to go into Teyla's quarters sooner or later. He knew that, eventually, her things would have to be sorted out and sent back to her people, and though John hated the thought of boxing up her belongings he hated the thought of someone else doing it much more.

It was with a sombre frame of mind that John guided the jumper into the bay and landed it. He wanted nothing more than to slink back to Sam's – Woolsey's – office and bury himself in paperwork again, but he didn't have the luxury to do that anymore. He'd made a decision and he had to keep to it. So, as soon as the jumper was landed, John made his way to the infirmary.

John hadn't expected to see anyone but Keller at the infirmary, but instead he found Rodney and Ronon, both looking down into the baby's crib. John stopped in the doorway, a little surprised to see them there. The looks they gave him made it clear that they too were surprised to see him.

"Hey," said John.

"Hey," returned Rodney, while Ronon nodded.

John took a couple of steps into the room, and then folded his arms a little awkwardly. "What are you two doing here?" He asked.

"We were just going to get breakfast," said Rodney.

"Thought we'd stop by," added Ronon.

John nodded, realising for the first time that almost every time he'd seen Rodney and Ronon in the past two weeks they had been together – even when one of them had come to see him in the infirmary, the other had shown up within a few minutes. They were supporting each other, like friends should, and John suddenly wished that he'd let them support him as well.

"Right," said John quietly. He walked over to where they were standing, and looked down at the baby. He was awake – lying on his back and kicking his legs in a slightly agitated way, looking up at them with a bit of a cross expression on his face.

John stared at him for a moment before looking up at his teammates. "I just went to the mainland," he said.

"Oh," said Rodney dejectedly. Ronon didn't say anything, but John noticed his eyes narrow at the news.

John took a deep breath. "Listen… I've changed my mind," he said. Eyes widened. "We're keeping him here. _I'm _keeping him here."

Rodney's eyes lit up. "Seriously?" He asked.

John nodded, a little surprised by Rodney's obvious joy at the news. He looked over at Ronon and saw that the Satedan was actually smiling. Well well.

John took a step closer to the crib and looked down at the baby that he was now responsible for. "I made a promise to Teyla," he said quietly. "I'm gonna keep it."

Suddenly, to John's utter dismay, the baby started to cry. John's head snapped up. "What's wrong with him?" He demanded. He was trying hard not to think of the baby's reaction to his news as a sign.

"He's just hungry," said Keller, rounding a corner suddenly. She was holding a baby bottle full of formula in one hand and gave John a brilliant smile; she had obviously heard what John had just said.

Keller put the bottle of formula down on a small table next to the crib and then reached in to pick up the baby. He was still crying, and didn't calm down when Keller held him. She made soothing noises as she settled him in the crook of her left arm. John had watched her do the same thing from his bed against the opposite wall during his stay in the infirmary, and knew that very soon he'd be the one in charge of feeding the baby. With that in mind, he spoke up.

"Can I feed him?"

Keller's eyes widened but she recovered quickly. "Sure," she said. She nodded to a chair a couple of feet away and John took the hint and sat down. He was studiously avoiding looking at Rodney and Ronon – he was certain they'd be smirking or something.

Keller stepped in front of John and, without any ado, handed the baby over to him. John hadn't held the baby since handing him to Keller on the Daedalus, but he pushed the memories to one side and quickly and carefully shifted him so that he was in his left arm. The baby continued to cry, his eyes shut up tight and his tiny mouth wide open, and John held out his hand for the bottle.

It was warm, and John was a bit surprised by that. "Okay…" he said quietly, and then held the bottle up to the baby's mouth. His cries ceased straight away as his lips latched onto the bottle, and he started to drink.

"Tip the bottle a bit," said Keller. John did so, and the milk started to flow much better. John looked up at Keller, and she smiled at him. "There you go," she said.

"Okay," repeated John. He looked down at the baby, still feeding quietly. "This is okay." And it was – sure he knew next to nothing about babies, but so did most people when they became parents, right? He could learn. He _would _learn.

The baby's eyes had been closed but they opened now, and he looked straight up at John. His eyes were still blue but were sure to go brown, like his mother's. John could tell that he was going to look just like her, and for the first time the thought didn't fill him with anguish. The corners of John's mouth tipped slightly as their eyes locked. He really could do this.

The baby looked away again as he continued to drink, and John looked up at the others. Keller was smiling, and Rodney and Ronon were too, to John's surprise – he'd been expecting their expressions to be much more sarcastic and smirk-like.

John cleared his throat slightly. "So… I'm gonna go to Teyla's quarters and move all the baby things she'd got into mine… and I guess I'll have to sort out stuff in there too," he said. He looked over at Keller. "I'll need a day, but then I can take him. Is he okay to leave the infirmary?"

"Absolutely," came her enthusiastic answer. John nodded and looked back down at the baby. He was really going through the bottle – he was over half done already.

"Colonel, if you need any help…"

John looked up at Keller again, and stared at her in silence for a moment. "You could teach me how to look after a baby," he said eventually.

Keller laughed, but quickly stopped when she realised that John was being totally serious. She paused for a moment, and then nodded.

"Me too," said Rodney. Everyone turned to look at him, and he shifted uncomfortably. "What?" He demanded. "He's gonna need _someone _to babysit."

Ronon nodded at Keller over the top of Rodney's head. "Me three," he said.

Off the top of his head, John couldn't think of two men less able to look after a baby than himself than Rodney McKay and Ronon Dex, but he was touched by their support nonetheless.

Keller shook her head. "Is this going to turn into _Three Men and a Baby_?" She asked with a tone of dread.

John looked back down at the baby, now two-thirds through his bottle and still going strong. "No," he said, pulling him a little tighter to his chest. "It'll just be me."

John continued to look down at the baby in his arms, and his friends continued to stand next to him, watching in silence as Teyla's son continued to feed. Eventually, the silence was broken by Ronon.

"What's _Three Men and a Baby?_"

_TBC_

Coming up next – John has a busy day.


	6. Baby Proofing

Chapter Six – Baby Proofing

_I'm very sorry about how long this took me write – this started off as a transition chapter, which I hate writing, and then kind of turned into something a bit more at the end. Still transitory though, I'd say._

_Anyway, I'm going on holiday on Tuesday, so unfortunately I won't be updating again until about the 20__th__ August. I will be writing a lot on holiday, so hopefully there will lots of new chapters when I get back! _

_Thanks again for the reviews. By the way, the angst is going to start to let up a bit after this chapter. At least for now… _

**Chapter Six – Baby Proofing**

John had always found the expression 'baby-proofing' to be an amusing one. So you make an object 'baby-proof'… does that mean the object then repels babies? The term kind of implies it – it also implies that the object is then safe from babies, when surely the point of 'baby-proofing' was to make the babies safe from the objects… right?

It was a stupid train of thought, really, but it's what was going through John's head as he stood just inside his quarters, looking around the room. Rodney and Ronon stood just behind him, also looking round. It was an absolute _tip_.

Discarded clothes were strewn all over the place; unwashed plates and cutlery from the meals John hadn't been able to eat in the mess hall littered the surfaces; books and magazines that had failed to distract him were lying wherever John had tossed them.

John cleared his throat. "Right… so I guess the first step is to clean…"

Between them, it really didn't take too long – it turned out to look worse than it actually was. The crockery and cutlery they stacked by the door to be returned to the mess, the dirty clothes were stuffed into a large duffel bag, also by the door, and the books and magazines were unceremoniously kicked under the bed to be dealt with later. Without the surface rubbish, they could at least concentrate on the room itself.

"Okay," said Rodney, after opening the window. "What now?"

"I need to figure out where to put the baby, I guess," said John, looking uncertainly around the room. It had never bothered him before that his quarters were pretty small – he spent a lot of his time out of them anyway – but now he had to wonder how he was going to raise a baby in such a cramped environment. Though… in a way it was a good thing – it was better to be closer to the baby, right? Maybe he could find a bigger place when the baby wasn't a baby anymore…

He was getting ahead of himself, and so forced his attention back to the task at hand. "I think the crib should go here," John said, walking over the wall next to the window. Rodney and Ronon nodded, but John immediately had doubts. "Do you think it's too close to the window?" He asked worriedly. He strode across the room to the wall opposite, to the right of the door. "Maybe here… but then do you think this is too close to the door? I think I was right the first time – that wall is better, but I think it will be too draughty right _there_…"

John stopped in the middle of the room, muttering under his breath, and completely missed the look of bewilderment that passed between his teammates. Ronon opened his mouth to speak, but John seemed to snap out of his ponderings before he could say anything.

"We have to move the chairs," John said in a decided tone. He turned to face his couch set, with was in the corner of the room against the wall that he wanted the crib against. "The crib should go _here_," he said, gesturing to the couch nearest the bed, "not right in the corner, but far enough away from the window… and the chairs will have to go more towards the door – and the table too."

"So it will be kind of like a baby corner," said Rodney.

"Yeah I guess," said John. He picked up his guitar, which had been resting against the wall behind the couch, and carried it over to his bed. He quite liked the idea of a 'baby corner' – he could keep track of all the baby's belongings over there, and if he made sure that he kept all of his crap away from that part of the room, he wouldn't have to worry too much about baby-proofing. Not yet, anyway.

Ronon went over to the couches, ready to move them where John told him to, and John walked back over as well, completely forgetting that he had had surgery a week before.

He remembered as soon as he tried to lift his end of the couch.

"OW!" He cried out, dropping the couch back to the floor and grabbing his side. He hadn't torn his stitches, but it had sure hurt. He grimaced and turned to Rodney. "Yeah, I'm not gonna be able to hold that," he said.

Rodney didn't look happy with the turn of events but he didn't protest any more vehemently than rolling his eyes as he walked past John and took hold of the end of the couch.

"Three, two, one," counted Ronon, and then lifted his own end. Rodney swore quietly as he picked up the other end, turning pink with the effort.

Ronon rolled his eyes, but John noticed that the Satedan was using both hands to hold the couch, and smiled slightly to himself.

"Okay, just a few more feet," John said to them, watching them shuffle further towards the door. "No, back up a little… no… maybe turn it round 90 degrees? No, the other way…"

Ronon and Rodney seemed to reach the end of their tether at roughly the same time, because the couch fell to the ground pretty evenly, and they both glared at him angrily. John blinked innocently. "Heavy?" He asked mildly.

"So… not funny," said Rodney, sitting down on the couch and trying to get his breath back. Ronon leant on the back of it, looking at John with a half-amused, half-annoyed look on his face. John just smirked and looked pointedly at the other couch.

Between them, Rodney and Ronon moved the couches over to the other corner, leaving a space clear for the crib, and for the diapers and baby clothes and toys and other things babies came with. At the thought of all the stuff the baby would need John was suddenly glad of two things – one, that he didn't really have that much stuff in his quarters anyway, and two, that he hadn't had to spend any of his paycheque in the last four years. He'd heard babies were expensive, and it wasn't like he could expect the airforce to fund the kid's upbringing.

"Crap," said John suddenly. "I have to start a college fund, don't I?"

"A what?" Asked Ronon.

"Yeah, you'd better do that soon," said Rodney. "College fees are going up all the time, and who knows how much it will cost in eighteen years."

"I guess I can open a new account and just have the airforce pay my wages into that from now on," said John. "It's not like I use any of it anyway, and I've got a lot saved already if there's an emergency."

"Hmm, well make sure you get a good rate of interest on it – if you want I could do some research on – "

"Hey!" Cut in Ronon, shutting John and Rodney up. "What are you _talking_ about?"

"College," said John. "It's so expensive – I need to start saving now." Rodney nodded emphatically.

"Right…" said Ronon slowly. "How about we move the baby in, first?"

John and Rodney glanced at each other and then nodded sheepishly. "Yeah…er, good idea," said John, feeling foolish for once again getting ahead of himself. It was just that he kept thinking of more and more 'baby things' that needed to be done. Still, he was lucky really – he didn't have to worry about registering with doctors and dentists or anything like that.

Schools though… what the hell was he gonna do about schools? Would he be home schooled? Who would teach him? There was only so much John could teach the kid, and he wouldn't be around all day to teach him properly. What the hell was he going to do?

"John!"

John snapped out of his new set of worries and looked up at Ronon. He was standing by the door, as was Rodney, and they were both looking at him expectantly. He nodded. "Yeah, let's go," he said.

John couldn't help dwelling on the growing list of Things To Do in his mind, as they walked along the corridor towards Teyla's quarters. It was a good thing, really, since if he'd really thought about what he was about to do he probably would have found it much more difficult to direct his steps that way. As it was, he found himself outside her door before he'd really thought about it… but the thirty seconds it took for Rodney to bypass the door controls gave him plenty of time for it to hit him.

He was about to go into Teyla's quarters. He hadn't been in there since she'd been taken by Michael – as far as he knew, no one had. Even before then, John couldn't remember the last time he'd gone in there. He knew she'd been changing it around to make room for the baby, and that she had gathered quite a few baby things together, but only because she'd told him. He hadn't seen any of it.

And now here he was, about to take it all out of her quarters and into his own. Teyla would never get to use the things she had collected for her baby. All those months of planning, and looking forward to motherhood… they were all a waste. Teyla would never know her baby, and her baby would never know her.

The lighter mood John had been in after his breakfast with Rodney and Ronon and tidying his quarters up vanished into thin air, and he was once again left feeling hollow, weary and completely hopeless. How was he going to do this?

The doors slid open and Rodney and Ronon both looked at John, waiting for him to go in first. John took a deep breath to steady himself, and entered.

At first glance the room looked the same as it always had – Athosian cloths covered the surfaces and candles, bowls and books stood on them. The bed was neatly made, draped in several furs and blankets. But John quickly saw that the other side of the room had been changed drastically. Teyla's couch set had been moved to make room for a small wooden crib, as well as a low-slung wooden chair and a small table. A wooden chest stood open, and John could see various baby things inside it. Two Athosian rugs hung like tapestries on the walls, and there was a mat under the crib.

It gave John no comfort that he had just arranged his room to look almost exactly like this – what he had planned in the space of five minutes, Teyla had been planning for five months. She had created a warm, welcoming environment for her child – John had shifted a couch.

The truth of the situation hit John like a ton of bricks as he stared at the crib; no matter how hard he tried – and he would try really hard – he would never be able to live up to how good a mother Teyla would have been. So many things about the situation were wrong, but the knowledge that Teyla's son would never feel the warmth and protection of his mother's love was surely the worst.

Hardly another word escaped John's lips as he set methodically to work, transferring the baby things from Teyla's quarters into his own. Rodney and Ronon obviously sensed his drastic mood change and were quiet themselves as they helped him – though it occurred to John that they were probably also badly affected by the sight of Teyla's empty room, hence another reason for their quietness.

John took the crib through first – it was hand carved, and obviously old, and could be rocked. It was hardly very practical as the baby was sure to outgrow it within a few months, but John didn't care; it was the crib Teyla had chosen, and was therefore perfect. They recreated the scene from Teyla's room in his own, setting up the 'Baby Corner' as Rodney still called it. Rodney and Ronon, once out of Teyla's room, lightened up a bit, but their attempts to bring John back out of his doldrums were unsuccessful. He remained quiet, answering their questions with nods or shrugs, or occasionally an 'hmm' sound. He was too lost in his morose thoughts to engage in their conversation, and eventually they gave up. But they didn't leave him.

Once the Baby Corner was established, John spoke for the first time.

"Can you guys just… give me a minute?" He asked them. He worked hard to keep anything that sounded like ingratitude out of his voice, but he couldn't inject any kind of warm feeling into it. He was back to feeling all kinds of hollow, and he knew he sounded it. Rodney and Ronon looked unsure, and John gave them a pleading look. "Just a minute," he repeated. "I'll meet you in the infirmary."

"Alright," said Ronon after a moment.

"But –"

Ronon grabbed Rodney's elbow and dragged him out of the room, cutting him off very effectively. The doors slid shut behind them, and John was alone. He stood perfectly still for a few moments, straining to hear the sound of his friends' footsteps, walking exactly the way he'd hoped. He waited until he thought they were far enough away and then strode to the door of his quarters without a backward glance, and didn't stop until he was once again inside Teyla's quarters.

The doors slid shut behind him, and John rocked on the spot, just staring around. He didn't know why he was there – he'd just had an overwhelming urge to return. Alone.

It was painful, being there. So very painful. The sheer emptiness of the room – empty of Teyla – cut through the hollow feeling that has encompassed his heart until the night before, when he'd been in the infirmary with the baby. He didn't want to be hollow again – he couldn't afford to be, with a baby to look after. The pain of being the room reminded him how to feel, even if it was something he wished he'd never felt.

He only stood there a few minutes, completely still, completely silent, but the time passed slowly to John. The pain settled into what felt like a dull ache in his chest, and he sighed. He couldn't stay there all day.

John turned to leave, but as he did a small wooden box caught his eye. He'd seen it before, in Teyla's quarters, but she had moved it since the last time he'd been in there. It usually stood in between two candles on a table by the window, but it now stood on a small table near where the baby things had been.

John stood undecided for a moment, but then quickly walked over and picked it up. He knew what was in there – Teyla had shown him the contents a couple of years before. The fact that it had been moved across the room to be closer to the baby showed that Teyla had intended to carry on the tradition… and now it was up to John.

With one last look around the room bringing one more low blow of pain to his chest, John left for the infirmary.

XXXXX

Later that day, around late evening, John finally found himself alone in his quarters again. Well, not quite _alone_. He looked nervously over at the crib once more – the baby was still, by some miracle, asleep. He'd felt sure that he would never stop crying, but exhaustion had seemed to take over eventually, and he was now peaceful in his new crib.

John sat on his couch, which was now placed so the back was towards his bed, so he had a good view of the Baby Corner. The coffee table in front of him was covered in baby supplies, laid out with military precision, ready to be used at a moment's notice. John glanced at the baby again – still asleep.

John sat forward – slowly, trying not to make any sound – and picked up the wooden box. He hadn't opened it, after removing it from Teyla's quarters, just put it in his own quarters on his way to the infirmary. Now the time had come for him to have a look, and he hesitated. The hollow feeling of the morning hadn't come back – he'd been too busy with his 'baby lessons', and the constant presence of the baby had stopped him retreating into his thoughts. The pain hadn't subsided, and John knew that opening the box wouldn't help with that. But he had to look sometime.

He knew what was in there. Some paper. That's all it was. It was just a few rolls of paper. The Athosians didn't have a strong tradition of writing things down – the script they used on the rare occasions that something was written was very similar to Ancient, and John's Ancient was pretty rusty. He remembered well how, when Teyla had shown him the contents of this box, she had translated the symbols for him.

He also remembered laughing at the tradition, because it had seemed so weirdly… Earth-like.

Birth certificates.

Because that's what they were, essentially – a small scroll of paper, with the name of the child, the name of their parents, their date of birth… and the name of their appointed Gaurdian. John had forgotten that part. He remembered Teyla pointing out Charin's name on her certificate, but hadn't given it any thought at the time.

This box held all the certificates for Teyla's family going back several generations, and there would have to be one added for her son. John would ask Halling to make it.

John opened the box to reveal the tightly rolled scrolls inside it. There were four on top, and John guessed at least another eight under them. He picked out the one tied with a thin red ribbon, knowing it was Teyla's. He unfurled it with extreme care, his chest tightening at the sight of the symbols on the page. Her name, at the top. Her parents' names, underneath hers. Charin's, under theirs. And a date, at the bottom. Unable to bear the torture of looking at it, and wondering why he was doing this to himself in the first place, John quickly re-rolled the scroll and put it back.

It was then that he noticed the other scroll, right next to Teyla's. It was on white paper, not nearly as aged as its fellows, and secured with a blue ribbon. John hesitated a moment, and then picked it up.

He'd been right about it being newer – and as soon as he held it he could tell that the paper was from Earth. He unrolled it.

There were two symbols on the page, in the place where the parents' names were on Teyla's certificate. He recognised the symbol for 'Teyla', and assumed the other represented 'Kanaan'. His breath caught in his throat, but not at the sight of the symbols. Underneath them, written in Teyla's smooth round script, were two English words: _John Sheppard_.

No name. No date of birth. He was on the certificate as the boy's Guardian before he'd been born. She must have made this months ago… and there he was.

Halling's words of that morning came back to John suddenly: _"In her last moments I am sure she was comforted by the knowledge that you would keep your word."_

John quickly rolled the scroll back up, put it back next to Teyla's, and closed the box. He put it back on the table and stood up, angrily brushing tears out of his eyes.

He had to snap out of this… he had a job to do. He couldn't sit there wallowing in his own misery – he was no good to anyone like that, least of all the baby that now depended on him so totally.

John walked over to the crib, and crouched down next to it. The baby still slept, his face turned slightly towards him. John kissed his fingertips and gently placed them on the baby's forehead.

"Sleep well kid," he whispered. "I'll be right here."

_TBC_

_Up next – John comes to realise why new parents are so tired all the time. _


	7. Strangers

_Bonjour mes amies! __I'm back from holiday and… the first thing I'm told is that SGA has been cancelled. Not surprising, but no less sad and annoying. :( _

_Anyway, here's the next instalment. As I said before, the angst is definitely lightening up now. _

_I'm also starting to think I should change the synopsis of this story – at the moment it's 'will John step and keep his promise etc', but of course he's already done that. So I think that now it should be something like 'how will having a child to look after change his life, and the life of Teyla's son?' I'll play with the wording… but yeah, that's pretty much what the story is about from now on. _

_Thanks for the reviews, and be sure to let me know what you think of this chapter. _

**Chapter Seven**** – Strangers and the Need for Silence**

"Hey, what –"

John made frantic gestures for Rodney to shut up, and for once the scientist took the hint. He stopped just inside the office door, looking very confused, and Ronon stopped behind him, staring over his shoulder.

John held his finger to his lips and nodded to the side of the desk, where the baby lay asleep in his crib. Understanding dawned on Rodney and Ronon's faces, and the two of them crept into the office.

"Hey," whispered Ronon.

"Hey," John whispered back.

"I didn't think you'd be here today," whispered Rodney.

"Someone still has to run things," replied John.

"How did you get him up here?" Asked Ronon.

"I carried him, and I got Phelps to carry the crib," John told him. The young sergeant had been passing his quarters at just the right moment that morning.

"You need one of those carrier things," whispered Rodney.

"Yeah," John agreed.

"How long's he been asleep?" Asked Ronon.

"About an hour," John whispered. He shot the baby a rueful look. "I think he thinks it's funny, sleeping _now_."

"He woke up during the night, then?" Asked Ronon with a smile.

John groaned quietly. "You have _no _idea."

John had spent nights in some pretty dangerous places before. He'd had to sleep up a tree once, and once behind three packing crates on a train, and even once in an igloo. He'd once camped out in a broken-down van in the middle of Taliban-controlled Afghanistan with only his sidearm for company. But last night had been, without a doubt, the most restless and nerve-racking night of his life.

John had sat still on his couch for almost an hour, just staring at the sleeping baby a few feet away. From that vantage point he could see the reassuring rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, and he was within easy reach if the baby should wake up. After a little while, though, John had begun to feel quite tired and had retreated to his bed. It was the last thing Keller had said to him as he'd left the infirmary with the baby – "make sure you sleep when you can, Colonel, otherwise you won't be any use to anyone". So John had heeded her warning and got into bed.

It was useless, trying to get to sleep. From his bed John hadn't been able to hear the baby's quiet breathing, or see his chest moving. He'd lain awake for a couple of hours, straining to hear in the dark, several times actually getting up and walking across the room to check that the baby was alright.

Eventually, though, exhaustion had caught up with him and dulled his nervousness, and his eyelids had started to droop.

That was when the baby had woken up.

John had started awake at the sound of the baby crying, and after a brief moment of complete disorientation he'd jumped out of bed, ready for action. It was almost like being on a mission – he knew what needed to be done, and he would do it. He'd legged it over to the crib and quickly scooped the baby up. He was screaming, waving his little arms in the air, his face red with the effort.

John had tried to comfort him while he'd quickly went about trying to soothe whatever was wrong with him. He checked his diaper, then he heated a bottle of formula. Much to his relief he'd discovered earlier that Dr Keller, ready for any eventuality, had ordered lots of Earth-made baby items for Teyla, including a bottle warmer that only took five minutes to warm up the formula. While John waited he had walked up and down inside his quarters, rocking the baby gently. He didn't stop crying until the bottle was in his mouth.

John had burped the baby after he'd finished and completely forgot what Keller had told him about putting a towel on his shoulder first. The first thing he'd done after putting the baby back down and rocking him back to sleep was to change his shirt, and then he'd crawled back into bed. The fact that it was only midnight by this point had surprised him slightly – it had felt like at least 0300. He'd fallen asleep within minutes.

The baby woke up twenty minutes after that. John had jumped out of bed again, almost killing himself as his foot got tangled in his sheet, and hurried over to the crib, sure that something was really wrong. But he was fine – just awake. And he'd stayed awake for almost an hour, with John sitting on the couch rocking him, and sometimes walking up and down. Eventually he'd dropped off again, and John had returned him to his crib before collapsing back onto his bed.

He had slept for forty minutes that time.

For the rest of the night, John was out of bed and across the room more times than he could count. The longest the baby had stayed asleep for any one time was an hour and fifty minutes. John changed his diaper twice, fed him once more, and all the other times just rocked him back to sleep. All the night he worried that he was doing things wrong somehow – that the baby shouldn't be so upset. He hadn't cried this much in the infirmary. At least, John didn't think he had – he'd been pretty drugged up at the time, and they'd always given him more at night to help him sleep.

When the baby had woken up again at 0730 and wanted food again, John had decided it was time for the day to begin and didn't want to put him back down to sleep after he'd burped him. It was then he'd realised that he didn't really have anywhere but his crib to put him. He'd had to put him back while he'd got ready, and then once he was dressed he'd packed up as much baby supplies as would fit into his backpack and nabbed Phelps to help him carry the crib and bottle warmer.

John rubbed the side of his face and stared across the desk at his two friends, who both looked pretty amused at his exhaustion. He would be annoyed at them if he wasn't so tired.

"Where are you going?" He whispered.

"Breakfast," answered Rodney. "We went to find you at your quarters but obviously you weren't there."

"You wanna come?" Asked Ronon.

John glanced at the sleeping baby. "I would," he whispered. "But I'm not moving him while he's asleep."

Ronon nodded understandingly. "We'll bring you something," he said, standing up. Rodney nodded his agreement and stood up as well. John smiled his thanks and the two of them left the office.

John leant forward on the desk and peered down at the baby. He was still sleeping peacefully, one hand on his blanket and the other up by his face. John was tempted to tuck the blanket in a little more but he resisted – he wasn't going to do _anything _that might accidentally wake him up.

To his surprise, Ronon and Rodney returned to the office ten minutes later with not only his breakfast but their own as well. John appreciated the gesture but was worried that the sound of them eating would wake up the baby, so they sat and ate on the bridge connecting the office to the control room. John was close enough to the baby to see that he was still asleep and okay, but far enough away to be able to eat and talk at a normal volume. The three of them stuck their legs through the bottom of the railings facing the gate, looking just like construction workers eating lunch and earning a few odd looks from the people passing them in the gate room below.

After he'd eaten, John slumped forward against the railings and closed his eyes.

"Tired?" Asked Ronon.

John just nodded.

"Do you want us to babysit?" Asked Rodney.

John opened his eyes but didn't move. "By yourselves?" He asked incredulously. "No thanks."

"You're doing it by yourself," Rodney protested, looking offended.

"Yeah but I… have to," said John. "I've got to learn." He sat up properly and shrugged. "Maybe in a few days, when I'm about to collapse. I've gone without sleep before, and I got _some _sleep last night, so I'm alright for now."

Rodney rolled his eyes but didn't press the issue. Ronon looked over his shoulder, back into the office. "At least he's cute," he said.

John chuckled. "Yeah," he agreed.

"He looks like Teyla," said Rodney quietly.

John's stomach clenched but the thought didn't open up the deep cavern of grief that was still inside him. He nodded. "Yeah he does," he said. He sighed quietly and then shrugged again. "So, I'm thinking I'll take him to the mainland tomorrow," he said. "I told Halling I would. You two want to come?"

"Yeah okay," said Rodney.

"Sounds good," said Ronon. "Will there be a feast?"

John frowned. "Why would there be a feast?" He asked.

"The Athosians have a feast when a baby is born," Ronon said. "I think they have more than one actually, but I'm not sure."

"Sounds about right," said John ruefully. "The Athosians love any excuse for a feast." He smiled at the memory of the many feasts he'd been to over the years, and his stomach clenched again at the thought of those feasts without Teyla next to him, explaining the traditions and making everything twice as fun. He sighed again.

"Anyway, it won't be tomorrow," said John.

"Have you named him yet?" Asked Rodney.

John's head snapped up. "_Named_ him?" He asked blankly.

Rodney nodded, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, as in given him a name," he said. "You can't keep calling him 'kid'."

"I hadn't even _thought _about a name," said John. He groaned and his head dropped back down onto the railings. "Damn it… I've got to name him!"

There was a moment of silence.

"Well, Ronon's a good strong name…"

"I think Rodney suits him…"

John laughed and sat back up again, his moment of panic passing but not completely disappearing. He had to name the baby. The thought of naming him hadn't even entered his head, though he supposed it should have – naming the child was an important part of raising the child. Like Rodney said, he couldn't stay nameless for much longer. The thing was it was such a personal thing to do, to name a child. John knew he was his Guardian – he accepted that – but somehow he just didn't feel he had the right to name him.

"How about Edward?" Suggested Rodney.

"Kafe?" Said Ronon.

"Charlie?"

"Teek?"

"Ben?"

"Minon?"

"Luke?"

"Greg?"

"That's an Earth one too. So's Ronon, come to think of it."

"Yeah I know. Ritor?"

"Neil?"

"No, no," John protested, holding up his hands to get them to stop. "It can't be something that we like – or that I like, or anything like that. It has to be something that _Teyla _would like."

Rodney nodded, but Ronon just raised an eyebrow. "What makes you think she wouldn't like Ronon?" He asked.

John grinned and shook his head. He was about to reply when one of Rodney's scientists entered the control room – in a very, _very _loud way, calling to someone else in the room. John, Rodney and Ronon all gestured wildly to him to get his attention and then to quieten down. Rodney jumped to his feet and stomped over to him to give him a piece of his mind. John didn't care what he said, as long as he said it quietly. He got to his feet and hurried into the office, Ronon right behind him.

The baby was still fast asleep. John slumped with relief.

"That was close," he whispered to Ronon.

Suddenly, they could hear shouting coming from the gate room. It sounded like someone was moving supplies, and something had fallen. John froze, staring at the baby. His breath caught a bit and his eyelids fluttered, and the arm that had been by his face moved down to rest on his blanket. His head turned to the other side, a tiny frown on his face. Then both arms came back up and his breathing became deep and slow again.

John unfroze, relief washing through him. "Keep an eye on him a minute," he whispered to Ronon, before striding out of the office, past Rodney on the bridge and into the control room.

Chuck looked surprised to see him – but then he hadn't been there when John had arrived. "Good morning sir," he said.

"'Morning," returned John. "Chuck, can you get me city-wide?"

Chuck looked surprised again, but quickly went into action, starting to press buttons.

"Wait," said John, reconsidering. "What I want is city-wide without the control-room office, control room and gate room… is that possible?"

"Yes sir," said Chuck. He pressed a few more buttons and then nodded. John tapped his earpiece.

"Good morning everyone, this is Colonel Sheppard speaking," he said. "This is just a fair warning – the baby is asleep in the control room office and if anyone wakes him up by being too loud as they go through the gate room or the control room, they'll be sent to M61-598. Without a weapon. Have a nice day."

He nodded to Chuck, who looked torn between shock and amusement. He disabled the city-wide.

John walked back towards the office and found Rodney and Ronon standing on the bridge, exhibiting both of Chuck's reactions – Rodney was shocked, Ronon was amused.

"598 is the planet with the over-friendly giant monkeys, right?" Asked Ronon.

"That's right," said John. "Too much?"

Ronon shook his head. "No, nice touch," he said, grinning.

"You're insane," muttered Rodney.

Insane or not, his announcement seemed to do the trick. Though John detected more foot traffic than was usual through the gate room over the next hour or so, everyone walked in total silence. They all looked fearfully up at John, who spent a lot of the time standing on the bridge, glaring down at them all and ensuring that nothing disturbed the baby.

After a little while Dr Keller turned up and joined him on the bridge.

"Is he still asleep?" She asked quietly.

"Yeah," John answered. "Almost three hours now. Which is longer than he slept at any time last night."

Keller shrugged. "Babies have nights like that sometimes," she said.

"But there wasn't even anything _wrong _with him," John complained petulantly. "I only had to feed him twice. Most of the time he just went back to sleep. Eventually."

Keller smiled. "It will get better," she said.

"I hope so."

"It _will_," she said firmly. "Remember that last night he was in a strange room, in a strange crib, with – sorry to say it – a strange man. He'll get used to it, but for now – you're strangers to one another."

John considered the wisdom of this for a moment and then nodded. He felt annoyed that he'd allowed himself to become a 'strange man' to the baby, but that was his own stupid fault.

"Anyway, you look really bad," said Keller without any trace of apology in her tone. "Do you want me to take him this afternoon so you can sleep?"

It was tempting, but John shook his head. "No, thanks though," he said. "I'm okay – really. I've been more tired than this before."

Keller looked unconvinced but let it drop, which John was grateful for. He wasn't lying about the being tired part – he was feeling much better now anyway, having had breakfast and three mugs of coffee – and he hadn't been lying earlier when he'd told Rodney he need to get used to learn. But really, the most important thing was that John didn't really want to let the baby out of his sight. He knew that it was a bit irrational, and would be completely impractical once he was on active duty again, but right now, just for a day or two, he wanted the baby with him. He had time to make up for – like Keller had just said, he was a stranger.

He didn't feel like explaining this, though, so resolved to try not to let his tiredness show from then on.

John was just about to ask Keller if she was planning on going to the mainland that day or the next when suddenly, with no warning, the air was pierced with a baby's cry.

John jumped slightly, and Keller's eyes widened as he spun away and ran back into the office to deal with the baby.

"That wasn't me!" She called after him. "I'm not going anywhere _near _those monkeys!"

_TBC_

_Next up – John and co. go to the mainland. _


	8. Bonding

Hi everyone – I'm sorry for the delay in posting this; I had real trouble with this chapter for some reason. Anyway, I'm away for a couple of weeks starting tomorrow, so don't look for another update too soon. Sorry!

The information for the conversation between John and Halling in this chapter comes from Joe Mallozzi's blog… it was going to be a conversation between Teyla and Ronon in 'Broken Ties', but was cut out.

I hope you like the chapter, please leave a review!

**Chapter Eight - ****Bonding**

John was quite nervous about going to see the Athosians again, and having the baby with him. He didn't really know what they thought about him as Guardian – he knew Halling supported him, but that was Halling. What about everyone else? Most of them didn't know him as well as Halling did, and probably resented him for being Guardian, not to mention blamed him for what happened to Teyla.

So yeah, he was quite nervous. It was typical, therefore, that the planned trip had to be postponed for a couple of days. First of all, John discovered that Keller was indeed going to the mainland the next day – to perform a battery of tests on the entire Athosian population. John decided that he and the baby would just get in the way. The day after that, John had a medical appointment of his own in the morning, and then a debriefing with Blackwell's team in the afternoon.

So, two days later than he'd intended, John made his way to the jumper bay, the baby in his arms. A week's worth of baby supplies were stuffed into a rucksack he had slung over one shoulder, and the baby was wrapped in a blanket. He was awake, but John had a feeling he'd drop off soon. He was sleeping a little better now – still waking up every few hours, but sleeping well in between, and giving John a chance to sleep too. As Keller had predicted, he'd got used to the new crib and the new room.

John just wasn't sure if he was used to his new Guardian yet.

"About time!" Scoffed Rodney as John walked up the ramp into the jumper. Keller and her medical team were busy securing their gear in the rear compartment – John nodded to her and walked past them to the front of the jumper.

"I'm holding a baby," said John patiently, very carefully shifting his bag off his shoulder. "I'm not gonna hurry."

Rodney rolled his eyes but didn't say anything else. John noticed he was sitting in the driver's seat of the jumper, but he didn't comment. He was too busy not dropping the baby.

"You named him yet?" Asked Ronon as John took the seat behind Rodney, next to Ronon. It was Ronon's new greeting nowadays, as if he thought John would forget otherwise. He only wished he could.

"No," John said shortly. "But I…"

"What?" Ronon asked curiously.

John shrugged. "Nothing." The thing was, he did have an idea for a name. He'd been thinking about it almost non-stop for two days, and he'd had a brainwave the evening

before. A name that suited the baby, and that Teyla _might _have chosen if she'd had the chance. But it still didn't feel right to John to name him – he still didn't think it was his place.

Rodney brought the ramp up. The baby yawned widely and snuggled down, his eyes drifting close. John settled down as well, the baby secure in his arms. The jumper took off and cleared the bay, and within minutes the baby was fast asleep.

"You're very natural with him."

John looked over his shoulder to see who had spoken – it was Dr Singer, a relatively new addition to the medical team, and someone John hadn't really had much contact with. He knew that Singer was a psychologist of some kind… the way he was looking at John made him feel a little like a lab rat.

Everyone else had turned to look Dr Singer, who just shrugged, still studying John. "It's nice to see, especially since you're not his father," he said. "It's really in your favour that you're a man."

John heard Rodney snort and he glanced over at Ronon, who was also looking amused by Singer's observation. John made sure that the baby was still sleeping soundly, and then looked over at Singer again. He must have looked confused, because Singer pre-empted his question.

"Because men bond with their babies after they're born, whereas women bond with their children during pregnancy," he explained. "Some men can get very involved with the pregnancy, and of course there's the sonograms and feeling the baby kick etcetera, but really it's after the birth that they become fathers. A woman would have had a much harder time bonding with him."

John didn't really have anything to say to that – he just nodded and turned away again. He hunkered down in his chair and watched the baby sleep.

Was it true what Singer had said? Did he really seem natural with him? It didn't _feel _natural, any of it. John second-guessed himself every single moment he spent with the baby, never knowing if he was doing things the right way. At least it seemed natural – what was that old saying? Fake it 'til you make it?

But the bonding comment – that was completely bogus. Singer had implied that John had bonded with the baby, but he really hadn't. The baby had barely been out of his sight for three days now, but he couldn't say that they had _bonded_. The baby didn't react to John any special way and John… well, he still wasn't really sure how to feel about him. He liked him well enough, he guessed… he didn't really do much. Just slept and ate and cried.

Prompted by Singer's little speech, John remembered back to that day when he and Teyla had been trapped in McKay's lab together, the day she'd asked him to be Guardian. He remembered how he'd felt, when she'd taken his hand and let him feel the baby kicking – it had been the weirdest, most wonderful feeling. Up until that moment he hadn't really been thinking of the baby as an actual _person_, waiting to be born, but when he'd felt him kicking he'd felt all those clichéd sensations people are meant to feel around babies… wonder, awe, protectiveness.

Now here he was, with the baby _in his arms_, and he felt nothing. He was so numbed by the shock of Teyla's death that he couldn't even feel anything around her child, except helplessness.

He was such a terrible Guardian. Already he was screwing up. John held the baby tighter to his chest and stared straight ahead out of the window, watching the ocean roll by in a flash of grey.

The Athosian camp looked much the same as it had a few days before, except there were more people milling around between the tents. Rodney brought the jumper in to land where John had landed before, on the grassy area by the medical centre. John sat up straight and tried to make sure the baby didn't get awoken by any jostling as they landed – he slept right through.

Keller and her team disembarked first, quickly followed by Ronon, who grabbed John's bag of baby things as he went. John stood up slowly and followed him through the jumper, Rodney at his heels.

"Can I hold him?" Rodney asked.

"Well not _now_," said John, rolling his eyes.

"I've only held him once," Rodney grumbled.

From the sound of it there were quite a few people outside the jumper, and sure enough when John got to the back hatch he saw that a small crowd had gathered. A sudden hush fell when they saw the baby in John's arms, and John stopped at the top of the ramp, suddenly unsure of what to do. It was an immense relief when he spotted Halling near the back of the crowd.

Conversation started up again as John started to walk down the ramp, and several people stopped him to tell him that it was good to see him, and that the baby seemed to be very well. John nodded and smiled, and tried not to be affected by their kindness – just like with Halling the other day, he found it hard to take that they weren't angry with him. Or, at least, that they were acting like they weren't.

"Colonel Sheppard!"

John smiled genuinely for the first time that day. "Hey Jinto," he said as the boy appeared next to him. He no longer had to look down at Jinto – he was almost as tall as him now, though he was skinny as a rake. His face was still unnaturally pale from his exposure to Michael's experiments, but he was grinning widely.

"How are you feeling?" John asked him.

"Better," said Jinto. "Still tired."

John nodded, once again grateful that Jinto hadn't been made into a full hybrid. Jinto had been the first Athosian he'd met… the first alien he'd met, if he thought about it that way, and he'd always felt a certain affinity with the kid. He reminded him a lot of himself as a boy – though Jinto was lucky enough to have a very understanding father.

"Colonel Sheppard, we are honoured that you have brought the baby to see us," said Halling, joining them. The crowd had dispersed a little as Keller's team led people to the medical centre, though a few people were still standing around, eyeing the baby with interest.

"Least I could do," said John truthfully.

Halling smiled and stepped closer to have a look at the baby who – miraculously – was still asleep. "He is beautiful," said Halling softly. "He has the look of Teyla about him."

"Yeah, I think so too," said John.

Halling looked up at him. "Have you named him yet?" He asked.

John blinked. Halling thought he should name him too? Damn. He'd been hoping that the Athosians would have some kind of tradition that meant he already had a name. Or something. Anything to take the pressure off John.

John glanced around at the other Athosians – they were all waiting for his answer with expressions of polite interest, and obviously expected him to come up with it alone. John shook his head. "Er, no," he said. "Not yet."

Halling nodded, but didn't say anything. He stepped aside and gestured towards the tents, and they all started walking in that direction.

Jinto stayed next to John. "What's it like being Guardian?" He asked John curiously. "It must be a real shock, to suddenly have a baby."

"Yeah, a shock," said John weakly. "That's one way of putting it."

"Well, you're doing well," said Jinto. "I can see why Teyla chose you. You will be a wonderful Guardian."

John smiled again, truly touched by the boy's faith in him. "Thanks Jinto," he said.

Jinto didn't seem to realise that he had said anything particularly important. "We were just preparing a midday meal – will you be able to stay and eat with us?"

"Sure."

"Good. Though I will have to go and see Dr Keller soon, for my treatment."

Halling led them to the largest tent, the one John had found him in a few days ago. As Jinto had said, the low-slung table was laid with various plates and bowls, and two women were preparing food in the corner. John breathed in the smell of Athosian spices and herbs, and his stomach growled. He hadn't had Athosian food in a _long _time.

Half an hour later, John's appetite had been satisfied, and he sat drinking Athosian tea, and watching as the Athosians passed around the baby, who was still sleeping. Typical, really – he was the perfect baby when everyone _else _was around. John sat with Halling, who was also watching the others. Ronon was sitting at one end of the table, still eating, as was Rodney – though he was also watching the baby being passed round and scowling, presumably because he hadn't been allowed to hold him earlier.

"How old is the child now?" Asked Halling suddenly.

"Fifteen days," replied John at once. He didn't need to think about it – he'd been counting the days since the disastrous 'rescue' mission.

Halling turned to John. "Will you be able to bring him back in six days' time?" He asked.

John shrugged. "I guess. Why?"

"At three weeks, it is customary for the child to be welcomed into the community," explained Halling. "I am afraid the feast will be meagre, but it is a tradition we should observe."

"Sure," said John. He knew there'd be something like this – the Athosians loved their feasts. It was kind of like a christening.

Oh no.

"Er, does that mean he has to be named by then?" John asked nervously. It was bad enough he had to name him – now he had a timeline too?

"Preferably, yes," said Halling, to John's dismay.

"Right," said John dejectedly. "Any other traditions I should know about?"

Halling smiled. "Well, after two months the Rite of Parkii should be observed," he said.

"Parkii?"

"Yes – he is blessed by the Ancestors, and given a stone of fortune which he will keep until he is of age," explained Halling. "Then he will discard it, as he is able to forge his own destiny."

"Okay," said John. Parkii equals stone of fortune… he could remember that.

Halling wasn't finished though. "At six months, a feast is held in the child's honour, commemorating the Athosian spirit as embodied in the warriors of tomorrow," he said.

"Got it."

"And then there is another feast three months later," said Halling.

John waited for an explanation, but there wasn't one. "What is that feast for?" He asked after a moment.

Halling just smiled, and John had to chuckle. "Any excuse for a feast…" he said quietly. Halling smiled wider.

The baby was being held by one of the few Athosians in the tent John actually knew the name of – Marta. She was a young-ish woman with dark hair, and she had just been handed the baby. She smiled down at him with such a tender, sad smile that John felt his heart clench – who knows what the Athosians must be feeling, meeting Teyla's son for the first time.

Ana, the only other woman in the tent that John knew, was standing next to Marta, and she looked over at John, smiling. "I think he is waking up," she told him. John craned his neck to look, and sure enough the baby was stirring in Marta's arms. A moment later he opened his eyes. John watched him closely, holding his breath. One blink. Two.

Then he started screaming.

John jumped to his feet, ready for action. He had a vague idea that everyone was staring at him, and he imagined them judging the actions he was about to take… this was his first real Guardian test in front of the Athosians.

"Here, I'll take him," John said, reaching for the baby. Marta obediently walked across the tent to John, the baby still screaming in her arms. She was rocking him gently and making soothing sounds, but his cries were just increasing in volume and intensity.

Marta came round the table and John took the crying baby from her, his mind turning over the possibilities for his sudden outburst – was he hungry? Did he need a new diaper? John sat back down so he could reach his bag easier, but as he did so he realised something – the baby had stopped crying.

John looked down in a panic, thinking wildly that he had stopped breathing or something, but he was fine… just quiet. His eyes, still wet from his recent tears, were wide open and staring up at John. He gurgled a couple of times as his cries wore off, and then snuggled into John's chest and was completely calm. And he was still looking up at him.

"Someone obviously wanted his Guardian," said Marta. A few of the Athosians chuckled.

John was staring down at the baby in his arms, completely still with shock. The baby had been crying because he'd wanted him – the baby knew who he was, and he trusted him… he'd _wanted _John.

John placed his free hand very lightly on his chest, and the baby immediately grabbed hold of his little finger. For the first time since he'd lost Teyla, John didn't feel completely helpless. For the first time since that day in the lab, he felt that sense of wonder and awe. For the first time he felt like he could actually do what Teyla had asked of him.

John decided to take advantage of the feeling while he could.

"So, I thought of a name," he said, looking up at the others. Ronon and Rodney both sat forward, staring at him with a mixture of surprise and curiosity, and John looked away from them to the assembled Athosians, all looking at him expectantly. John glanced down at the baby, who was still completely content in his arms, and then back up at his audience.

"I've been trying to think of something that Teyla might have chosen," he said. "It took me a while – I'd never thought to ask her what she was going to call him." He cleared his throat nervously. "I… I thought that maybe I could call him after her father. Torren, wasn't it?"

All the Athosians nodded; some, including Halling, smiled. "I think it is a fine choice, Colonel," he said.

"Yeah?" Said John nervously. It had seemed like a good idea in his head, and none of the Athosians had looked at him like he was an idiot, which he took as a good sign…

"Yes," said Halling.

"I think Teyla would have liked that," said Jinto, smiling at John.

"Really?" John asked, still nervous.

"She would have," said Ronon. John looked over at him and Rodney, and was surprised to see that they both looked pretty choked up. Rodney nodded next to Ronon, smiling sadly.

John let out a shaky breath and looked down at the baby in his arms – the baby who now, finally, had a name. "Okay then," said John. "Torren Emmagen it is."

_TBC_

Next up – John lets the guys babysit.

A/N – About the name…

Before any of you leave me reviews telling me I was totally unimaginative or something, I'd like to pre-emptively defend myself. I decided to use the actual name because I really do think it's something John would come up with, given the time. Plus it's the name I've been planning on using since I started planning this story, which was before Search and Rescue aired. Of course, back then it was _Tagan _because that's what I thought her father was called. And you'll notice that in every story I've written about the baby since it was announced Teyla was pregnant (and there are a lot) he's always called Tagan. Tagan John, in most of them… Anyway, that's why he's called Torren.


	9. Uncles

Hi everyone… remember this story? I'm so so sorry for the severe updating delay – I've been stupidly busy at uni the past few weeks, but I break up for Christmas today (YAY!!) and so I'll be home in a couple of days… hopefully this will mean more time to write.

Thank you for all the wonderful reviews, and also to anyone who nominated one of my stories for an Isis Award – I'm dead chuffed, thanks!

This chapter's a little more light-hearted; it's also the first foray into the World Outside John's POV - please let me know what you think.

**Chapter Nine – Uncle Rod and Uncle Ron**

"And fasten it at the side… make sure it stays on… okay! I'm getting pretty good at this, huh?"

John grinned at the baby he held up in front of him, his fresh diaper staying firmly in place, and nodded. "Soon we can start timing me, and we'll see how fast I can do it."

He put Torren back on the makeshift changing mat (actually a yoga mat swiped from the gym) and did his bodysuit back up. Torren just stared up at him.

"Hey, this is an achievement, so don't look at me like that," John told him as he cleared away the old diaper. John glanced at his watch and frowned. "I'm sorry again, by the way," he said to the baby. "But they won't stop bugging me, and I really do have a _lot _to do…"

Torren was still staring at him, and John smiled ruefully. He couldn't believe he was about to do what he was about to do. Doubts assailed him once again as he stared down the innocent boy he subjecting to such torture.

"Maybe I can get out of the meeting…" He knew it wasn't possible, even as he said it. He could still take Torren to the meeting with him, but that would be a bad idea. He needed to give this meeting his full attention, which he wouldn't do if Torren was with him. And he wasn't lying about having things to do – he'd been a bit lax about team briefings lately, and it was definitely something he needed to catch up on. Again, taking a baby to such things wasn't the best idea.

So he had no choice. When he'd really thought about it, there had been only a handful of people John had trusted enough with the task of looking after little Torren, and even fewer that were capable of it. In fact there was only one, really, but Keller had been working her socks off recently researching a dozen different equally-important things at once, and he knew she didn't have time. Besides, like John had said, _they_ had really been bugging him.

John's door chimes sounded, and he raised an eyebrow at Torren. "That will be them," he said resignedly. He picked him up and, holding him against his chest, walked over to open the door.

In the corridor outside, looking strangely excited, were Atlantis' – nay, the Pegasus Galaxy's – two least likely babysitters… Rodney McKay and Ronon Dex.

"We're here!" Said Rodney brightly.

"Yes, thanks Rodney, I can see that," said John dryly. He nodded at them both to come in, and couldn't help his grip tightening on Torren as they walked past him. Both of them had bags with them.

"What have you got?" He asked them both.

Both of them looked a bit shifty at his question, and John quickly shook his head. "You know what, I don't want to know," he said.

Ronon threw his bag onto John's bed and held out his arms. "You want me to take him?"

John started to unfold his arms to hand Torren over, but somehow he found himself just shifting him over to the other side of his chest and holding him as tightly as before. "Er… you guys sure you're okay with this?" He asked nervously.

Rodney and Ronon rolled their eyes at each other. "I think we can handle one baby between us," said Rodney.

"Right," said John weakly. "I'll only be gone for a few hours… I just need to take a few meetings."

"Yeah yeah," said Rodney dismissively, holding out his arms. "Hand him over."

"No way, I asked first," growled Ronon, taking a step closer to John.

"Don't be so childish," scoffed Rodney.

"Who's being childish?" Retorted Ronon. "You'll get your turn."

"Okay, stop right now," said John, rubbing Torren's back. "Before I leave, I need you both to promise that you're not gonna have an actual tug-of-war with the baby."

Rodney and Ronon had the good grace to look ashamed, but it didn't make John feel much better about handing Torren over to Ronon (Rodney glaring at him the entire time). Torren's eyes followed John as he stepped away again, and John could swear he could see accusation in his eyes.

"Sorry," said John again before he could stop himself.

"Huh?" Said Ronon.

"Nothing," said John. "So, er, diapers are over there by the window, and the formula is –"

"We know, you showed us yesterday," said Rodney impatiently.

"And we've been in here enough to know where things are," said Ronon.

"You can go," said Rodney.

"But –"

"_Go_," said Rodney and Ronon together.

"Okay okay, I'm going," said John. "I'm on the radio if you need me." He looked down at Torren again and smiled. "See you later buddy – be good for Uncle Rod and Uncle Ron."

Torren looked up at Ronon and then back at John, and this time John really could see the accusation there. Shaking his head, John backed out of the room as quickly as he could.

XXXXXXX

As soon as John was gone, Rodney walked over Ronon's side. "I want to hold him," he said flatly.

"I'm holding him," said Ronon, looking down at the baby. "You can hold him later."

"I want to hold him _now_," said Rodney petulantly.

Ronon finally looked up at him, and glared. "Later," he said firmly.

Rodney glared right back at him but didn't demand to hold him again – instead he reached out a hand to Torren, who clamped a fist around his little finger. Rodney gave Ronon a smug look. "See, he _likes _me!" He said triumphantly.

"Babies will do that to anything," Ronon scoffed. Proving his point, Torren suddenly grabbed hold of one of Ronon's dreadlocks in his other fist and pulled. Rodney laughed as Ronon yelped, not expecting the sudden pain.

"It would be safer on your hair if I take him," said Rodney reasonably. Ronon just glared at him again and pulled his hair out of Torren's grasp.

"I can handle it," he growled.

Rodney shrugged and walked away, over to where he'd put down his bag. Ronon watched him with narrowed eyes. "What have you got in that bag?" He asked him suspiciously.

Rodney caught the tone and looked back at him, equally suspicious. "What have you got in yours?" He asked.

Ronon raised an eyebrow. "Just some traditional Satedan toys," he said.

Rodney snorted. "No wonder you didn't want to tell Sheppard," he said. "I doubt any of them are child-friendly. Now, _I _have brought something that will actually _benefit_ Torren." He unzipped his bag with a flourish to reveal a small CD player, a stack of CDs, and an abacus.

"What is that thing?" Ronon asked, nodding to the abacus.

"It's called an abacus," Rodney explained, lifting it out of the bag. "It's a very, very old device used for arithmetic –"

"You're going to teach Torren _arithmetic_?" Ronon asked drily, earning himself another glare from Rodney.

"It's never to early to start with math," he said. "_I _had an abacus since I was a baby, and it introduced me to the world of numbers like nothing else could."

"Great," said Ronon sarcastically. Rodney ignored him and took out the CD player. "I gave Teyla come classical music to listen to when she was pregnant, and now that Torren is born it's time to move him onto some more serious stuff," he said, placing the player on John's desk and inserting a CD.

He stood up and turned to Ronon again. "Can I take him now?" He asked. Ronon rolled his eyes but handed the baby over. Torren squirmed in Rodney's arms for a moment and then settled down. Rodney sat down next to the CD player and pressed play. Piano music filled the room, and Rodney nodded down at Torren.

"Right, this piece is called _Quasi una fantasia_," he told him. "One day I'll teach you how to play it. Most people – uneducated people – call it _Moonlight Sonata_, because someone compared it to moonlight once. It was written in 1801 by Ludwig van Beethoven, who was a German composer who studied with Haydn in Vienna for –"

Torren was asleep within two minutes.

"Classical music and you," said Ronon drily. "No wonder he fell asleep."

Rodney scowled at him, and then looked back down at the baby asleep in his arms. He looked back at Ronon. "What now?"

Ronon shrugged. "I don't know," he said. "Put him in the crib, I guess."

"Right," said Rodney, starting to walk over to the crib in the corner of the room. Ronon followed close behind and stood by his shoulder as he very, _very _carefully lowered the baby onto the small mattress.

"He goes on his back, right?" Said Rodney.

"Sheppard always puts him on his back," Ronon replied.

"Okay then," said Rodney. The two of them stood there in silence for a few minutes, watching Torren's chest rise and fall as he slept peacefully.

"What do we do now?" Asked Rodney.

"Turn off the music?" Ronon suggested.

"It hasn't even got to the second movement yet," Rodney grumbled, but he obediently walked over to the CD player and turned the music off. He sat down on Sheppard's desk chair, and Ronon sat down on one of his armchairs.

They sat. And then they sat some more.

"I don't know why Sheppard looks so worried all the time," said McKay after an hour or so. "This is easy."

"Yeah," agreed Ronon. "Kinda boring though."

"I could put the music back on…"

"_No_."

Rodney grumbled something about Ronon being uncultured, but the Satedan ignored him and walked over to the crib. He peered down at Torren's sleeping form for a few moments before turning back to Rodney.

"Seriously," he said, folding his arms. "I'm pretty bored."

"XBox?"

"Sounds good."

XXXXX

"…need to be prepared for certain changes Colonel."

"Yes Sir."

"Mr Woolsey is an extremely knowledgeable man, and will certainly be making his mark on Atlantis."

"I'm sure, Sir."

"I hope we can rely on your support and cooperation, Colonel – it will be easier on all involved if you work with Mr Woolsey from the beginning."

"Of course, Sir."

Ordinarily, John wouldn't have been so compliant. What did this guy think he was going to do, stage a military coup? Of _course _he was going to support Woolsey – he didn't need to be told how to do his job by a jumped-up member of the IOA who had never even set foot outside a cushy office environment… at least Woolsey had experience – _real_ experience.

Ordinarily, John would have been a little less good-little-soldierish, but right now all he wanted was for the meeting to be over - he hoped blind obedience was the way to accomplish that goal.

"I hear that you have taken over guardianship of Teyla Emmagen's child," said the IOA member.

John's eyes narrowed slightly as he stared at the man on the screen in front of him. Perhaps his method of compliance was about to be tested.

"Yes Sir," he said firmly. "I have."

The IOA member – Coolidge – stared back at him, his face unreadable. John had never met the man in person, but didn't think much of him on general principle… he had forced Teyla and Ronon to attend interviews on Earth just because they weren't from there.

"Well, good luck Colonel," said Coolidge after a moment. "Enjoy the first few months – they're easy compared to when they start crawling around."

John relaxed immediately and even chuckled a little, a considerably better opinion of Coolidge already forming in his mind.

"Thank you, Sir," he said, nodding at the screen.

Coolidge nodded back. "We'll be in touch again next week when the Daedalus arrives," he said. "Until then, stay safe."

"Yes Sir," said John.

Coolidge nodded to someone John couldn't see, and a moment later the image of the SGC control room disappeared as the gate shut down. John sat staring thoughtfully at the blank screen in front of him for a moment before standing up and activating his radio.

"Sheppard to Forrester, come in."

"_Forrester here_."

"Captain, I'm ready for you now – get your team and meet me in the briefing room."

"_Yes Sir_."

XXXXX

"Get ready for the grenade – yes!!"

"You are going to _pay _for that!"

"Bring it on big guy – oh god."

Rodney and Ronon both froze and stared at each other, wide-eyed, as a baby's wail suddenly filled the room. A moment later they both jumped to their feet, Rodney pausing their video game as he went – the lack of sound from the game just made the sound of Torren's cries louder. Or maybe he was crying louder.

Ronon stopped next to the crib and looked down at Torren. His face was screwed up tight except for his mouth which was wide open, screaming at the top of his tiny lungs. His hands were balled into fists which he was waving around in the air, and he was kicking his legs as well.

"What's _wrong _with him?" Rodney asked, staring at Torren is shock. "I've never seen him cry like that."

"I don't think I've seen him cry," replied Ronon.

Rodney nodded. "Yeah… well, he starts, but Sheppard usually makes him stop pretty quickly," he said. "He doesn't _scream _like that."

"Maybe it's just because we woke him up…" Said Ronon.

Rodney tutted. "I _told _you we should have played a quieter game," he said crossly. "I suggested _GolfPro 6_, but _nooo_, you _had _to play _Halo 3_."

"We could have played without the sound effects," retorted Ronon.

"What's the point of _Halo 3 _without the sound effects?!"

Torren's screams, defying all possibility, suddenly got louder.

XXXXX

"Okay, I think we're done here," said John, closing his copy of the mission report. "Dismissed."

Major Peterson and his team started to gather their things together and stand up, and John did the same, looking at his watch as he did so. He'd been gone for an hour and only had two briefings left – not bad.

"How's the baby, sir?" Asked Peterson.

John looked up again and nodded. "He's good, thanks Major," he said.

"Who's watching him?"

John grimaced. "Ronon and Dr McKay."

Peterson raised his eyebrows. "Really sir?" He smirked slightly. "No wonder you wanted to end the meeting quickly."

John knew the Major was only joking, but he was once again assailed with guilt. "Do you not think they can handle it?" He asked the Major. "Do you think they'll screw up?"

Major Peterson obviously detected the panic in his commanding officer's voice, and his smirk vanished. "No sir," he said.

"Because I wasn't sure, you know, but there aren't that many people who can watch him and I really needed to get these meetings done and –"

"Sir," the Major cut him off. "I'm sure they're coping perfectly well."

XXXXX

"You should pick him up."

"Me?! Why me?! _You _pick him up, Uncle Ronon."

"No way – you do it."

"Are you scared of a _baby_?"

"Are you?"

"No! Fine, I'll pick him up. Hey there Torren, don't cry, Uncle Rodney's here…"

"Well?"

"How do I pick him up? He keeps squirming!"

"Oh get out of the way I'll do it."

"He's still crying."

"Yeah."

"Even louder."

"I know."

"So now what?"

"What?"

"You said pick him up – you've picked him up, and he's still crying. What now?"

"Change his diaper?"

"Does it need changing?"

"Why don't you _check_?"

"No, he's fine."

"Is he hungry?"

"How am I supposed to know?!"

"Get a bottle!"

XXXXX

"Hi Sir, how's it going?"

"Afternoon Lorne," replied John, nodding at the Major as he walked into the control room. "How's the leg?"

Lorne rolled his eyes. "Annoying," he said simply. John nodded again, knowing exactly where the Major was coming from – he hated being injured not because of pain, but because it always meant he couldn't do anything but convalesce. John sat down at a spare terminal and logged in to access Captain Router's last mission report.

"So you left the baby with McKay and Ronon?" Lorne said suddenly.

John's eyes snapped back to the Major, who was standing a few feet away, leaning on his crutches. He looked totally innocent, but John was sure he'd heard something in his tone.

"Yes," he said. "How did you know that?"

"Peterson said."

John narrowed his eyes. "Why would Peterson tell you that? What's he been saying? Does he think they can't handle it? Do you?"

Lorne's eyes got wider and wider during John's barrage of questions, and he actually took a step back as he answered – not simple to do on crutches. "Er, no sir… I just ran into him and he said he'd had a meeting with you and I asked if Torren was there, because I haven't seen the kid in a while, and he said that McKay and Ronon were babysitting. That's it."

John nodded, feeling faintly embarrassed. "Right. Okay then. Carry on, Major." And with that he turned back to the computer screen in front of him, hoping that Lorne would just leave. He did, quickly, and John relaxed again. Sort of. He couldn't help worrying, though he knew he was just being silly.

Rodney and Ronon could handle a baby for a couple of hours. Sheesh.

XXXXX

The door chimes sounded and Rodney and Ronon exchanged a look of fear. Rodney moved over to the door.

"Who's there?" He called.

"It's me, open up!"

Rodney and Ronon both slumped with relief and Rodney quickly opened the door. Jennifer hurried through as soon as there was space, looking extremely worried. "What's wrong? What's happened?" She exclaimed, jogging over to where Ronon stood, still holding a screaming Torren in his arms. She took the baby from Ronon – who had never looked more relieved – and ran a hand over his chest and then his limbs, frowning in concentration.

"Well?" She demanded. "Did you drop him? Did he eat something he wasn't supposed to? What?"

"No," said Rodney, walking over to join them. "He won't stop crying."

Jennifer stopped her examination of Torren and looked up at Rodney. "What?" She said flatly.

"He won't stop crying," Rodney repeated. "We can't make him stop."

Jennifer went to check Torren's diaper, but Ronon stopped her. "We checked, he's fine," he said. "We think he's hungry."

Jennifer stared at Ronon in disbelief. "So _feed_ him," she said. "There are bottles in the fridge."

"Exactly!" Said Rodney. "They're all freezing cold. Even I know that babies' milk is meant to be warm."

"There is a bottle warmer right there," said Jennifer, nodding to a table near the fridge.

"It's not working," said Rodney.

Jennifer glared at him, and then at Ronon. "You said _get to Sheppard's quarters right away – Torren emergency_," she said coldly.

"This is an emergency," insisted Rodney.

"He won't _stop crying_," said Ronon.

Jennifer rolled her eyes and shifted Torren (who was, indeed, still crying) to the other side of her body. Making soothing noises and bouncing him a little, she walked over to the bottle warmer and peered down on it. A second later she looked back at Rodney and Ronon, her eyes shooting daggers at them both.

"It's not _plugged in_," she said exasperatedly.

Rodney blinked. "What?" He said. "No – wait, there isn't a plug!"

"Yes, there is," said Jennifer. "The wire isn't attached to the back of it."

Rodney and Ronon looked at each other for a moment before both hurrying over to where Jennifer stood, rolling her eyes again. Sure enough, the wire that ran to the plug had become unattached from the back of the device, and fallen down the back of the table where they hadn't spotted it.

Ronon quickly plugged it back in, avoiding looking at Jennifer. Rodney was doing the same.

"Right, well, thank you – that's all," he said, holding out his arms for the baby.

Jennifer looked at him sceptically. "I think I'll hang out here for a while."

XXXXX

The gate activated halfway through John's debriefing with Captain Odessa and his team, but John paid little attention. It was right when Major Boris was due back, and Chuck would tell him if there was a problem. His radio stayed silent, so John assumed there wasn't.

A moment later though, Major Boris knocked on the door of the meeting room. He was still geared up, and the side of his face was smeared with mud.

"Er, Sir, sorry to interrupt… could I speak to you for a minute?"

John frowned and stood up, confused. He was sure that if it were something terrible Major Boris would have radioed in, and he wasn't smiling, so it couldn't be _good_. He did look a bit weird.

"What is it Major?" John asked him, stepping out of the room.

Major Boris shifted uncomfortably. "Well Sir, we received some pretty strange intelligence when we out today."

XXXXX

"Seriously, we'll be fine."

"We can handle a baby."

Jennifer snorted. "You radioed me because you couldn't plug in a bottle warmer."

"It's working now isn't it? We can handle this."

"Go."

"Go!"

Jennifer stood in the doorway of Sheppard's quarters, looking from one face to another. Rodney and Ronon were both standing facing her, shoulder to shoulder, both equally determined to see her leave. Ordinarily she would have felt offended, but she had a feeling she knew why they wanted her gone.

"Don't worry, I won't tell Sheppard I was here," she said with a grin.

For a moment both Rodney and Ronon visibly relaxed, but then both were looking at her with the same expectant expressions again, and she threw her hands in the air. "Fine, fine!" She said. "I'll be in the infirmary."

The door closed behind her, and Rodney and Ronon exchanged relieved looks. Torren, who had been fed and burped, was once more lying peacefully in his crib, staring up at the mobile above his head.

"Do you think she'll really stay quiet?" Rodney asked Ronon.

"Yeah," said Ronon. "Though I wouldn't put it past her to blackmail us at some point."

Rodney groaned – Ronon was probably right. Damn him for not knowing there was a plug! How embarrassing.

At that moment they heard the door open behind them. Rodney spun round ready to tell Jennifer that they could be trusted with a baby for more than one minute, but instead of Jennifer coming back he was surprised to see John come skidding into the room.

"We can handle it!" Rodney said crossly before he could say a word. He stepped surreptitiously in front of the monitor that still had their paused _Halo 3 _displayed. He switched it off.

"Yeah, we're fine," said Ronon. "We fed him –"

"And burped him!"

"He's fine."

John waved a hand impatiently. "Yeah I know, that's not why I – Boris just got back," he said, sounding out of breath. He must have run all the way from the control room. Rodney and Ronon frowned at each other and walked over to him.

"He just got back, and he was talking to the Akkarens off-world, and Michael's been spotted."

Rodney's jaw dropped. "What?"

"Michael," John repeated. "They say he's alive."

"But _how_?" Rodney demanded.

"His ship blew up," Ronon said. "We all saw it – how did he get off?"

John shook his head frantically. "That doesn't matter – you're missing the point!"

"What point?" Said Ronon bemusedly.

"If Michael got off the ship and survived, maybe – _maybe_ –"

Rodney's eyes widened. "Maybe Teyla did too."

John nodded, and Rodney and Ronon stared at each other. John brushed past them and walked over to Torren's crib – he scooped him up and held him close, resting his cheek on top of his head.

"You hear that Torren?" He whispered quietly. "Your Mom might still be alive." He rubbed his back and looked round at Rodney and Ronon, eyeing them both seriously.

"And if she is, we're gonna find her for you."

_TBC_


	10. Parkii

A/N – Wow, I'm very, _very _sorry about the lack of updates for this story... or any story. I do fully intend to finish this story, and all my other WIPs as well, but it will take me some time.

This chapter is actually the amalgamation of what would have been two chapters, and I think it works better this way – I feel like it's a bit of a filler, but it's not because there is plot... you know what, I'm just going to shut up and let you read it. Sorry, it's late here and I'm tired!

Anyway, please let you know what you think.

**Chapter Ten**** - Parkii**

John paused outside his quarters and took a moment to compose himself before entering. He wasn't in a good mood, not at all, and even though little Torren was only a couple of months old and wouldn't have any memory of anything he did or said today, he felt very strongly that the kid shouldn't have to deal with his bad moods. He'd learnt that lesson growing up with his Dad, who'd followed an entirely different school of thought.

When he felt like he could smile and talk cheerfully, even if it was only to a baby, John knocked on the door and walked into his room. Lieutenant Villers, who had been watching the baby for him, stood up from where he was sitting next to his crib. Torren was lying in the crib, awake but looking like he wouldn't stay that way for long.

"Hey Villers," John said, nodding to the young airman. One thing he'd learnt in the last couple of months was that there was no shortage of willing babysitting volunteers on Atlantis, and in the last few weeks he had tried to loosen up a little and let some of them look after Torren. Nothing disastrous had happened yet.

And anyone was better than Rodney and Ronon.

"Evening Sir," said Villers. "Is everything okay?"

"Nothing to report," said John, deftly avoiding the question. Everything was _not _okay, but he wasn't going to start whining to Villers.

The Lieutenant seemed to know John wasn't in the best of moods though, and gave him a sympathetic look as he picked up his jacket and the comic he'd brought with him. "Okay, well I'll be off, Sir," he said.

John nodded. "Thanks Villers," he said.

"Anytime," the Lieutenant replied. He paused to tickle Torren on the chin, and then quickly left. John took another moment before going over to the crib himself.

It seemed that everyone on Atlantis knew how frustrated and annoyed John was – they were certainly feeling the extra mission load, with every team out searching for news about Teyla or Michael. No team was doing more than John, Ronon and Rodney's, but everyone was doing their share. But there hadn't been a word. Not one single word for almost two months.

John stepped up to the crib and looked down at Torren, who smiled as soon as he caught sight of John. As always, John felt the same strange mix of sadness and affection when he saw him smile – affection, because he'd really become fond of the little guy and loved that he could make him smile so effortlessly, and sadness because when he smiled he looked just like his missing mother.

"Hey buddy," said John softly. Torren grabbed hold of his proffered finger and gave him another smile, which John returned.

"It's way past your bedtime," John said. "No staying up partying tonight, okay?"

He let go of Torren's hand, sat down in his desk chair, only a couple of feet away from the crib and booted up his computer. The weekly mail had come in today, and Chuck had handed him a disc with his messages on for him to read. John wasn't expecting anything other than reports on his salary and maybe a message from Sam, but it wasn't like he had anything else to do right then.

John inserted the disc and reached out to gently rock Torren's crib as he waited for his messages to pop up. When they did his eyes widened with shock – there was one from his brother.

John and David had reconnected somewhat after their father's death, and John always made a point to give him a call on the rare occasion he found himself on Earth, but they hadn't been in contact since Teyla had been taken. He hadn't told him about Torren – hadn't even thought to tell him.

Now though, he wondered what his forthright big brother would say if he knew he was the Guardian of a two-month old baby. He'd probably laugh at the very idea, or just wonder why John was bothering, since he knew nothing about raising kids and would assume there was someone far better suited to take him – it was a train of thought John's own mind had followed regularly, so he wouldn't blame his brother for thinking it too.

Pushing such speculation aside for the moment, John clicked on the message.

_Hey John_, his brother had written. _I hope you're well. I haven't heard from you in a while, so I'm guessing you've been out of touch. I hope you're okay. I'm writing with some great news – you're going to be an uncle! _

John blinked and sat back, staring at the last six words. He supposed he should be feeling happy at the news – and he was, in theory. David and his wife Ellen had been trying to get pregnant for a few years now, and John knew they were trying IVF. He guessed it had worked. But really, how was he supposed to be excited about being an uncle when he was still trying to get used to the idea of being – for all intents and purposes – a father?

John kept reading.

_The doctor confirmed it last week, and Ellen's been walking on clouds since then. So have I, I guess! Anyway, the baby's due September 5__th__, and Ellen and I both hope that you can make it back to see the baby when he or she is born. Obviously you're welcome to stay with us. Please think about it. Get in touch soon. Dave. _

John had to smile a little at the naïve invitation – they wanted him to stay with them when they had a newborn baby to look after? They had _no _idea… though John guessed they would have it easier than most new parents, with the household staff there to help.

John winced, remembering the way the housekeeper Mrs Garrison used to yell at him every time he snuck into the stables or rode his skateboard in the house. He felt sorry for his niece or nephew already.

John opened up the special Atlantis email function – the message was sent to a centralised system and then sent through the gate the next time they contacted Earth and forwarded on. He typed in his brother's email address and sat thinking for a few moments.

_Dave, _he wrote after a while. _Sorry it's been so long since I've been in touch. Things have been pretty hectic here. Anyway – congratulations! I'm so happy for you and Ellen, and I definitely will come and visit, though I can't say right now when I'll be able to make it. Tell Ellen to take it easy and concentrate on looking after Baby Sheppard. _

_I actually have some news myself. A friend of mine, Teyla, had a baby a couple of months ago, and she appointed me his Guardian. Teyla went missing soon after he was born and so I've kind of acquired a baby of my own. His name is Torren, and though it's been a bit of a shock to suddenly have a baby to look after, it's not been as bad as I thought it would be. Hopefully he won't be stuck with me for much longer. _

John paused and looked over what he'd written, and then deleted the second paragraph. It didn't seem right, somehow, to tell Dave about Torren over email. He couldn't explain the situation the way he wanted to. Besides, Dave had enough to be thinking about right now.

So, he added a quick _Hope you're both well and I'll be in touch sooner next time, John_ and sent the email off.

John turned back to Torren – he was just drifting off to sleep, and John made sure his blankets were all okay before sinking down onto his couch. So, his brother was having a baby. It was strange how these things always came along in pairs. But it was definitely John's dearest wish that by the time his niece or nephew was born, Torren would be back with his mother.

If only they could find Michael. Everything depended on it – John knew that Michael wouldn't be able to resist holding Teyla over John and his team; if they found him, they found her. It was as simple as that. But finding him was proving to be far from simple. They had nothing to go on but rumour – and months-old rumour at that.

The question that kept John awake into the early hours of the morning every night, though, was had Teyla escaped off the ship with Michael? What if they found Michael and it turned out he'd just left her on the cruiser to die? John didn't believe that that could be the case – Teyla was too valuable to Michael for him to just leave her behind, but the mere thought of it was enough to torture him.

John grabbed a cushion and held it over his face, shaking his head. They had to find Michael. They just had to.

XXXXX

"May this stone of fortune guide you until you are able to forge your own destiny, Torren Emmagen."

"And may the Ancestors bless you, now and always," replied the gathered Athosians.

Rodney leaned across to whisper to John and Ronon. "Does he really have to be _that close _to the fire?"

Ronon rolled his eyes but John just kept his eyes firmly fixed on the Athosian Elder who held Torren, poised and ready to jump up at any second. They were seated in a ring around a huge bonfire, and the Elder was standing with Torren no more than a foot away from the flames… Rodney may have only just noticed the fire hazard, but John had been stopping himself from jumping up and pulling the man back for the last five minutes.

It had to be nearly over anyway – Torren had his stone, he'd been blessed, etc etc – it was almost over, right?

Suddenly all the Athosians stood up together and said something in Ancient, and after that there was a moment's silence before several people started to talk.

It _was _over. Thank god for that.

John jumped to his feet and started to hurry over to the Elder who still had Torren, but he was stopped by Jinto and one of his friends. After Jinto he had to say hello to Amana and Halling. Then another one of the Athosian Elders.

He was almost – _almost _– relieved when he heard Torren crying from somewhere in the crowd; the history of the Rite of Parkii was incredibly boring. John gave the Elder an (completely fake) apologetic look. "Sorry, duty calls," he said.

The Elder just nodded, and John quickly headed through the crowd in the direction of the cries. It was pretty easy to find Torren, since everyone around him were craning their necks to see what was wrong. John brushed past them all to find Torren in the arms of Marta, a young Athosian woman, though she was passing him over to Keller. As soon as Torren was settled in Keller's arms, he stopped crying.

Marta shook her head, smiling ruefully as John walked over to Keller. "He always cries when I hold him," she said.

"Not _always_," said John, though it was a total lie – Torren did always cry when she held him, even he had noticed.

Marta looked like she didn't believe him. "Yes, always," she insisted. "You must have noticed."

John shrugged. "It doesn't mean anything," he said, believing it completely. He was a baby – who the hell knew why he did what he did?

"He always cries when I hold him too," said another Athosian that John had only met in the past few weeks, a woman named Joah. John had been surprised and a little uncomfortable to learn that Joah was actually Kanaan's cousin, and therefore – in his eyes – eminently more suited to being Torren's guardian than himself. However, he'd never said this to her or to anyone else, and it was obvious that Joah didn't think anything of the kind; what Halling had said about the chosen Guardian being the most important caregiver after the child's parents was obviously true for all Athosians.

John nodded to Joah, and looked at Marta again. "See? It means nothing," he said. He held out his hands for Torren and Keller handed him over, looking strangely thoughtful about something – John had a feeling he'd find out about what later on.

Sure enough, an hour later when they were all headed back to Atlantis in the puddlejumper, she spoke up.

"You know, Marta got me thinking, about why Torren always cries when she holds him," she said.

John glanced over his shoulder at her and then shook his head, turning back to the controls. "He's a baby, you don't have to overthink it," he said.

"I know, it's just – well, both Marta and Joah have Wraith DNA," she said in a rush. "And we know Torren does too…"

There was an almost imperceptible dip in their flight as John's hands slipped slightly on the controls. "Wait," he said, tightening his hands on the jumper and then turning to look at Keller again. "You're saying Torren can sense their Wraith DNA? And that's why he cries?"

John couldn't even wrap his head round the possibility. Torren was a baby. A _baby_. He was _two months old_. Maybe Keller was still feeling the aftereffects of that totally heinous plant thing a couple of weeks ago… she looked okay, but maybe she needed more time off.

"It's possible," Keller said. She took in John's incredulous expression, and then saw Ronon and Rodney looking at her in the exact same way, and she held up her hands as she continued. "We know he has more DNA than other Athosians, because both Teyla and Kanaan had it, and they passed it on to him. Genetically it doesn't make much of a difference, but it probably means his ability to sense the Wraith will be stronger than even Teyla's was… is."

John let the slip of the tongue past. "Teyla can't sense it in humans," he said firmly.

"I know. It's just a theory," said Keller, shrugging again. "Like you say it's probably just a baby thing – I guess we'll find out as he gets older."

John turned back to the puddlejumper window, where the lights of Atlantis were just visible on the horizon. "I guess."

Woolsey was waiting for them in the jumper bay when they got back, and John had a feeling, as soon as he saw him, that he wasn't going to like whatever it was the man had to say. Woolsey had been in Atlantis for almost three weeks now, and on the whole was doing an okay job. John was certainly glad to be relieved of the duty of running the place himself, and if the IOA wanted one of their own in charge of the city, Woolsey was definitely the least offensive of them. In fact, John kind of liked the guy.

Still, he was IOA, and he did have an agenda. John was very wary of him.

"Colonel, could I have a word with you in my office?" He said as soon as John approached him.

John could see something had happened, so he nodded and gave Torren to Keller, and she, Ronon and Rodney headed off towards the mess hall to get dinner. Torren was fast asleep.

"Thank you Colonel," said Woolsey as they walked down the stairway to the control room.

"No problem."

"How was the ceremony?"

"It was fine – all the Athosians turned out for it, it was quite nice actually," said John.

They walked through the control room in silence and over the walkway into Woolsey's office. John had now seen this same office under three different leaders, and now Woolsey's decorating style was definitely the most… sparse. Austere might be a good word for it. There was only one picture, and it was of a dog.

John closed the door behind him and got straight to the point. "So what's happened?" He asked.

Woolsey walked round his desk and sat down, gesturing to John to do the same. "Anderson's team got back early today – Lieutenant Farraday was quite badly injured."

"What happened?" John demanded. Anderson and his team had been stationed on M34-097 for almost a week; it was a hostile world, and they were under orders to stay deep undercover and observe for ten days, on the lookout for any activity that might be traced back to Michael – he'd been seen on that world before.

"Anderson and Gregg were captured by some of the natives," Woolsey explained, "Farraday was injured in the rescue. Thankfully it was successful, and Farraday is set to make a full recovery."

"Good," said John. "I'll debrief the team tomorrow, but I'll go see him now." Woolsey nodded, and John could only wait a couple of seconds before asking the question.

"Was there any sign of Michael?"

"None," said Woolsey. "Colonel, we need to talk."

John just looked at him, waiting for him to get whatever it was over with.

"Colonel, M34-097 is a known hostile world, an extremely dangerous environment – I believe it was a mistake for Anderson's team to be there at all."

"Michael has been sighted there, and it makes sense to concentrate our efforts on worlds that he's been active on," said John defensively.

"Not any more."

John fought down the urge to tell Woolsey to suck it – it wouldn't help matters. He took a deep breath and tried to be reasonable. "Okay. No more hostile worlds."

"No Colonel, I'm afraid I'm pulling the plug on the whole operation – this is turning into a wild goose chase, and it's only a matter of time before someone gets killed," said Woolsey. His face was blank and his voice was even – he might as well have been telling John that they were serving fish in the mess hall.

John gaped at him. "I – you're 'pulling the plug'?" He repeated incredulously. "You're… you want us to just stop looking?"

Woolsey nodded, his face still blank. "Yes, I do."

John was on his feet before he'd even realized he was moving. "We can't just stop looking!" He exclaimed, leaning heavily on the desk and glaring at Woolsey. He finally saw some emotion flash in the other man's eyes, and suddenly Woolsey was on his feet as well.

"We don't even know she's still alive!" He retorted. "The entire Daedalus crew saw Michael's cruiser destroyed just moments after your team was transported off it. You yourself attested that Michael was killed."

John stood up straight again, folding his arms. "That was _before_ one of our allies saw him –"

"_Might _have seen him," interrupted Woolsey coldly. "And not Teyla."

John flinched as Woolsey unwittingly preyed upon his worst fear. He shook his head. "If Michael survived, then –"

"We can't keep doing this Colonel!" Woolsey exclaimed, sounding both exasperated and, to John's surprise, sorrowful. "We can't keep expending resources like this. I'm sorry, I really am, but it's gone on long enough."

John knew he'd lost the argument – once words like 'resources' and 'expending' entered the debate you never stood a chance – and he felt defeated. And guilty – guilty because, on some level, he knew Woolsey was right. But giving up when there was hope, even the smallest bit of it, felt like a brutally deep betrayal. One that he'd experienced before and wasn't ready to experience again.

"You just expect me to give up on her?" He said after a moment, his voice much weaker than he'd intended.

"No I don't," said Woolsey in a sympathetic voice. "I would never expect that, and I wouldn't want you to. But there hasn't been a single lead for two months. If Michael is still alive, he's gone underground and you're not going to find him."

John sank down onto the chair again, and raked his hands through his hair. Woolsey also sat back down, looking a little wary and obviously not expecting the argument to be over.

But John just shook his head. "If I don't find him, I'll never stop wondering," he said.

Woolsey sighed. "I know. But from what I know about Michael, if he _is _still alive, _he'll _find _us_."

John met Woolsey's calm intelligent gaze for a second and then looked away at the wall in front of him. He was right. Michael would never stop trying to get his revenge on Atlantis, and of course they had something that he wanted – Torren. If he had survived, they would see him again.

But in the meantime, they had to stop searching for Teyla. With his heart so heavy it actually felt painful in his chest, John nodded his agreement.

"Thank you Colonel," said Woolsey quietly.

"Is there anything else?" John answered abruptly.

"No."

Without another word, John got up and left Woolsey's office.


	11. Prodigal

**I'M SORRY! **

I am so sorry about how long it's taken to update this. To all the people who reviewed or sent me messages since the last chapter was posted: yes, I fully intend to continue with this story and to eventually finish it. I've planned it all out and really do want to get it done, but this chapter stumped the hell out of me. As you can tell from the title, this chapter is based around an extremely important episode, and was going to be completely action-packed. However, I SUCK at writing action, and it's been annoying me for a year... so I changed the entire format of the chapter and here it is, completely different to how it was going to be but with the salient points still included. One day I might write this chapter as it was going to be as a companion piece.

I faithfully swear that the next chapter will be up soon.

**Chapter Eleven – Prodigal**

John yawned for the eleventh time in three minutes, shuffling round a corner in the labyrinthine corridors of the East Pier. It was only about 9pm (or the Atlantis equivalent, anyway), but John was beat. Torren had been really fussy lately, and crying all hours of the night. John had to be on constant stand-by, ready with a bottle or a diaper or a hug to calm him down, and then there were some nights when nothing but a walk could get Torren off to sleep.

Tonight was one of those nights.

John had been walking around the deserted corridors for almost an hour, and Torren was just now starting to drop off. He was wrapped in a blanket and snuggling against John's chest, his head lolling against his shoulder. Tired as he was, John couldn't help but smile at the sight. He was a cute kid.

John slowed down his walk, his eyes fixed on Torren, watching for any signs that he was about to wake up again. His eyes stayed closed and John could feel his little chest rising and falling evenly as he breathed, and John sighed with relief. Now to get him back to his quarters without waking him up. He started to turn around very slowly.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a bright yellow remote-control car came whizzing round the corner, heading straight for John's feet. He jumped back against the wall with a yell, his arms tightening around Torren.

"Sorry!"

"_McKay_?"

"Sorry – didn't expect anyone to be down here," Rodney said, rounding the corner.

John stepped away from the wall, glaring at McKay. "I could have _dropped _him!" He exclaimed. His eyes widened and he looked down at Torren, expecting him to have woken up, but he was fast asleep. John looked back at Rodney, who was at least looking a bit repentant.

"Look I'm sorry, I really didn't think that – come to think of it, what _are _you doing down here?"

John glared a bit more, for good measure. "I'm walking Torren, it's the only way to get him to sleep," he told him.

Rodney nodded. "Ooh, he's colicky, huh?

John shrugged. "Keller says it's just a phase," he said.

Rodney nodded again. "Don't worry about it. I was a colicky baby too," he said.

"Just do what my Mom did – let me cry myself to sleep. _I'm _no worse for it."

John stared at Rodney for a moment before shaking his head. "Remind me never to let you babysit again. Ever."

Rodney rolled his eyes and walked past John to pick up the car. "So you're racing?" John asked.

"No – it's just me," he said. "_You _said you couldn't, and Ronon hates racing cars because he actually loses."

John sniggered – Ronon's face had been pretty funny when he'd lost the race to Rodney that time.

"Since you're here anyway, though, you wanna race?" Rodney asked. "I've got the red car with me too."

John hesitated for a moment, but then shook his head. "I've got to get Torren back to bed," he said.

"You're no fun anymore," Rodney grumbled.

"No, I guess I'm not," John said. And it did kind of suck, not having the time to race toy cars with Rodney anymore, but in the grand scheme of things it wasn't the biggest deal in the world – and John would pick Torren over a car race any day.

He bid Rodney good night and headed back the way he'd come, being careful not to jog Torren too much – though if jumping out of the way of Rodney's car hadn't woken him up, it was probably gonna take more than a little jostling to wake the kid.

It was just then that the lights went out.

John stopped. He waited for the lights to come back on, or for the back-ups to kick in, but nothing happened. Carefully, he extracted one arm from around Torren and tapped his ear piece.

"This is Sheppard, what's going on?"

Nothing, not even static. John tried again.

"Control room come in, this is Sheppard."

"Sheppard?"

John turned round towards the voice. "Over here, McKay," he called out. He rubbed a hand over Torren's back, but he was still fast asleep.

A dark, Rodney-like shape rounded the corner. "Is your radio working?"

"No, yours?"

Rodney walked over to John. "I can't get anyone," he said.

John looked away, down the gloomy corridor, and then turned back to Rodney. "Follow me."

He led the way over to a doorway about twenty feet away and stepped out onto a balcony – from there they could see up the East Pier to the Central Tower.

Rodney stepped out behind John. "That's strange – the lights are out all over the city except the control room," he said. John nodded, swallowing down a sudden feeling of panic; it was eerie, to see the city so dark.

"Why's that?" He asked Rodney, hoping there was some reasonable explanation that he was missing.

But Rodney ignored him and tapped his earpiece, looking concerned. "This is Doctor Rodney McKay calling anyone in the control room, please respond."

John tightened his arms around Torren. "Something's definitely not right."

XXXXX

As always, it was John's hearing that returned first, and as always it was the steady thrum of machinery and quiet beeps that told him he was in the infirmary. Unlike the last time he'd woken up there, though, John knew exactly what had landed him there.

_Michael_.

John kept his eyes closed, and concentrated on what he could feel – he hurt in a few places, but not too badly. As he lay there cataloguing his injuries, he could remember each and every punch and kick that caused them, and he hurriedly focused on the sounds of the room instead. Under the usual noises of the infirmary there were the sounds of breathing and someone shifting around, and John figured that someone was sitting next to his bed.

There was a muffled clunking noise for a moment, and then someone spoke.

"What's going on with the lights?"

It was Ronon, and sure enough he was sitting beside John's bed. Rodney answered a moment later from the other side.

"It's just glitches while they're bringing the primary systems back on-line and re-establishing the firewalls," he said.

"You don't need to be there?"

"Radek can handle it," Rodney said. There was the same strangle clunking sound and this time John noticed things get a bit darker as the lights flickers.

Rodney cleared his throat. "I don't wanna –"

John opened his eyes.

Rodney noticed and his extremely worried expression lightened a little. "Hey!"

Ronon leant forward. "Hey – you okay?"

John nodded, and carefully propped himself up on his elbows. Several parts of his body registered what were probably humungous bruises, but he winced and then ignored it. Rodney and Ronon were sitting in plastic chairs, staring at him, and both of them looked like hell. Ronon had some impressive bruises of his own.

John cleared his throat. "Where's Torren?" He asked. "Is he alright?"

"He's fine – Jennifer's got him," Rodney said.

"Is he hurt?" John exclaimed. He'd been alright when John'd last seen him, but if he was with the Chief Medical Officer...

"No, he's fine, honestly – she's just looking after him," Rodney said quickly. "I think he's asleep."

John nodded. "Michael?"

Rodney and Ronon shared a glance before Rodney answered. "We found his body," he said. John gave him a doubtful look. "He's dead. _Very_ dead," Rodney said.

"I can't believe I didn't get to kill him myself," Ronon said from John's other side.

John gave him a sardonic look. "Sorry."

Ronon gave him a grim smile. "I'll get over it."

John nodded, images of his final fight with Michael coming back to him. He shut his eyes again and flopped back against the pillows.

"Hey. You got him," Rodney said, sounding worried again. "It's over."

John opened his eyes and looked at Rodney, and then at Ronon. He sighed. "Yeah. It is," he said. "He told me –" The words stuck in John's throat and he closed his eyes again.

There was a moment of silence. "What?" Said Ronon eventually.

"What did he say?" Rodney asked.

John opened his eyes again, but kept them fixed on the ceiling. "Teyla was on the cruiser," he said flatly. "She's dead."

There was more silence. "Are you sure?" Rodney asked.

John turned his head slightly to look at Rodney. "When we beamed off the cruiser, Michael knew what was gonna happen, so he just ran for the jumper," he said. "He left her behind."

Rodney looked stricken, and John had to look away again. "But he..."

"It was Torren he wanted," John cut Rodney off, flatly, wanting this conversation to be over as soon as possible.

Ronon seemed to want the same – he pushed back his chair from the bed and stood up, striding across to the other side of the room. He stopped next to the wall and stood with his back to John and Rodney. He didn't say anything.

John swallowed and looked back at Rodney – he was staring down at the edge of John's blanket. "It was always a long-shot," he said quietly.

"Yeah," said John.

Rodney shifted in his seat, his eyes still down. "I guess... at least now we know."

Ronon strode across the room and through the door, just as Keller was coming through in the other direction. She had to jump to the side to avoid being knocked over by Ronon, but he didn't stop or even slow down. John looked back at Rodney, and saw that he was now looking at the wall above John's head, and his eyes were brimming with tears.

John looked back at Keller.

"How are you feeling, Colonel?" She asked him.

"I'm alright."

"You've got some bumps and bruises, but no breaks and no internal bleeding – I'll get you something to eat and then you can go," Keller said, walking over to the end of his bed.

For the first time in his life, John wasn't happy at the idea of leaving the infirmary. He refused to think about why. "Right," he said.

Keller looked a little puzzled by John's reaction and she looked over at Rodney, but at that moment he jumped to his feet and hurried out of the room without looking at her or John.

Keller stood staring after Rodney for a moment, before looking back at John with a question in her eyes. John couldn't even face the thought of repeating himself, so he just looked away.

Keller paused a moment and then cleared her throat a bit. "Torren's asleep in the other room – he's fine," she said.

John nodded. "Good. Thanks."

"You wanna see him?"

John opened his mouth to say yes, because of course he wanted to check that he was okay after what happened. But before he could speak he imagined seeing him, seeing Teyla's son now that he knew what had happened... that there was no chance at all... he knew he couldn't face it. So he shook his head.

"No, it's okay," he said. "Let him sleep."

_TBC_


	12. Knowing

My apologies have long since felt hollow and not good enough, given my terrible track record with updating this story. This time I'm not going to promise to update sooner because I don't want to keep breaking my promise! That said, I'm having a bit of a Stargate renaissance at the moment, and I just wrote this chapter in one go in about an hour... having been completely uninspired for the past year. SO though I'm not going to _promise_, I think it's _very likely _that there will be another update soon.

I'm so grateful for the reviews I've received, and that people have still been asking me about updates for this story. I know I've been awful, but I really do intend to finish it.

Warning: this chapter is _very _angsty!

**Chapter Twelve - Knowing**

John carried Torren through the corridors of Atlantis, his eyes on the ground to avoid making eye contact with the people he passed. The city was as busy and bustling as usual, but there was a strange silence to the bustle – everyone seemed to be talking in undertones... or, at least, they did when John walked by.

Torren was clearly no worse for his encounter with Michael – he had no idea how much his young life had been ruined by the intelligence Michael had brought. John had spent the rest of the night in the infirmary and then picked up Torren from Keller on his release – the little boy's face had lit up at the sight of him, his arms reaching out for John to pick him up. John had done so, but with a heavy heart. Just the day before the sight of Torren's delighted smile whenever he saw his Guardian would have lifted his spirits, reassured him that he was doing something right... now, he felt like he didn't deserve that smile. He hadn't done anything right, it was all wrong.

Teyla was dead.

The gate room showed the most signs of Michael's attack on the city, but John knew from experience that the clean up crews of Atlantis were efficient, and within days there would be little evidence of the battle. John didn't stop to see what the couple of dozen people in the room were doing – he headed straight for the stairs, through the control room without talking to anyone, and into Woolsey's office.

Woolsey looked up as John entered, and he gave John a look that he hadn't seen before – it was an odd mixture of sorrow, compassion and relief.

"Colonel, how are you?" He said, closing the lid of his laptop and gesturing for John to take a seat. He gave Torren a small smile. "How are you both?"

"We're both fine," John said shortly. Woolsey nodded – they both knew that what he'd said wasn't true, but they also both knew it was something they wouldn't be talking about.

"Good," said Woolsey. "We burnt Michael's remains this morning, on the East Pier... I assumed you wouldn't mind not being present."

"You assumed right," John said. He had no desire to see Michael in any way, shape or form ever again.

Woolsey nodded again, and there was a short silence before John spoke up. "Have the Athosians been told?" He asked. "About... about Teyla?" He could barely even speak her name.

"No. Not yet."

John nodded. "Good – I think... I want to tell them in person," he said.

Woolsey frowned suddenly. "Colonel... I don't think we should be too hasty," he said. At John's nonplussed look, he leant forward, clasping his hands together on his desk. "Michael has lied to us before."

John looked down – he'd expected this, but not from Woolsey, he had to admit. "You think she's still alive," he said.

"I think that it's possible," Woolsey said.

John sighed. "If Teyla was alive somewhere, Michael would have said something," he said. "He wouldn't have been able to resist holding it over us – over me. I _know _him, he just wouldn't."

Woolsey sat back in his chair; he didn't look convinced. "Well, Drs McKay and Zelenka are pulling apart the remains of his puddlejumper as we speak," he said. "You never know, we might get lucky, find some piece of intel that will tell us what happened to Teyla, for better or worse."

John held his tongue, but he doubted it. Teyla was dead – there was no way Michael would have kept her hidden, when it would have been to his advantage to hold her over John to save his life.

Woolsey was talking still, about the medical leave that Keller had proposed for John and how long the clean up of the city was going to take, and once he had finished John stood up to go.

"I'm going to go see the Athosians," he said. "They need to be told."

Woolsey nodded, but gave him a pleading look. "Remember what I said, Colonel."

John nodded and got out of there. Woolsey meant well, but he didn't know. John _knew_. Teyla was dead. And it was worse than when he'd thought it before, right after it had happened – for months now he'd been clinging to the foolish hope that she'd escaped with Michael, that they'd find her alive. Now his hopes were crushed and he was once again filled with the numbing agony of Teyla's loss.

Torren's head lolled against his shoulder as he started to drift to sleep – John tightened his grip on him and headed up the stairs to the jumper bay.

Rodney was there, sitting amongst a pile of wreckage – he and Radek both had laptops and were excitedly pointing to their screens. John didn't want to know, but he knew he wouldn't get by them without them noticing him, so he walked over to them.

They didn't noticed him approach right away, and Rodney activated his ear piece. "McKay to Sheppard – are you out of the infirmary yet? Get to the jumper bay now!"

John rolled his eyes. "Hello Rodney."

Rodney and Radek both jumped at the sound of his voice, and if John didn't feel completely hollow he might have laughed. But he did, so he didn't.

"How long have you been standing there?" Rodney demanded. Then he waved his hand impatiently. "It doesn't matter – look, we've hit the jackpot! Addresses for all the gates the jumper's dialled in the last six months. These are probably where Michael's bases are."

John nodded. "Probably," he said.

Rodney gave him a serious look. "We'll find her," he said.

_No we won't_. John didn't say it though, not to Rodney. With Woolsey it was different – he barely knew Teyla, and Rodney loved her like a sister. He couldn't just dash that hope in Rodney, not yet. He could let others feel hope, even if he had none.

So he just nodded. "I need to go to the mainland," he said. "But give the addresses to Woolsey – he can assign teams to check them out."

John turned away and got into a nearby jumper before Rodney could reply.

He hadn't really thought this through, this trip to the mainland... if he had he would have at least picked up Torren's carrier from his quarters beforehand. He sat Torren on his lap so his back was resting against his stomach – he'd woken up a little, which made it easier – and used one hand to flick all the required switches. He'd never been so glad that flying the jumper was mostly intuitive.

It was Halling that greeted John when the jumper landed, and John was glad because it was Halling that he wanted to see. A group of Athosians had soon surrounded them, fussing over Torren as usual, but Halling seemed to sense that John had something serious to say, as he invited him to his private tent instead of the meeting one. Soon it was just the two of them and Torren, who was getting sleepy again. John lay him down on a fur rug and turned to face Halling, who looked grave.

"You have news of Teyla," he guessed.

John saw no need to beat around the bush. "Michael attacked the city last night," he said. "He was after Torren. Needless to say he failed... he's dead."

"Michael is dead? How?" Halling asked.

"I threw him off the top of the central tower," John said, making it sound much easier than it had been. But he didn't really want to get into the details now. "His body was collected and cremated this morning."

Halling nodded. "And once again, Colonel Sheppard, you have the gratitude of our people," he said.

_And if it wasn't for my people, Michael wouldn't have been an issue in the first place_. John just looked away.

"You believed that, by finding Michael, you would find Teyla," Halling prompted after a few moments' silence.

John sighed and looked back at Halling. "He arrived in a puddlejumper, and McKay's managed to pull some gate addresses off of it," he said. "They're probably locations of his bases – and if Teyla's anywhere, she'll be there."

Halling gave him a piercing look. "But you do not believe that she will be," he said.

John wasn't surprised that Halling could read his thoughts – he didn't have much of a poker face these days. "I want to believe it," he said earnestly. "But... he told me she was dead. And I... I think he was telling the truth."

Halling looked away then, down at Torren, who was sleeping peacefully. John looked at him too – he was looking more like Teyla every day.

"Though we have lived in hope of being wrong, it has been our belief for many weeks that Teyla has perished," Halling said eventually. He sighed. "How long will it take you to search for these bases of Michael's?"

"I don't know – not too long," John said. "Woolsey is committed to the search, now that we have something to search."

Halling nodded. "We must hold a celebration of remembrance for Teyla, and soon," he said. "We have been reluctant to do so, hoping that... but we must commend her soul to the Ancestors."

John nodded, his throat tightening. "Yeah, you should do that," he said.

"I hope you will join us, Colonel – it would be right for Torren to attend," Halling said.

John couldn't speak – he just nodded again.

"Dr Keller believes that the last treatment for those touched by Michael's evil will be administered within ten days," Halling said. "The celebration should be soon after, once we are whole again. I can only hope that we are both wrong, and this last search will truly make us so."

XXX

John was on medical leave for the next seven days, and the searches of Michael's bases took less than that. Sure enough they found a base – or remnants of one – on each of the addresses recovered from the jumper. Every team on Atlantis was assigned by Woolsey to search for Teyla, to make finding any information about her whereabouts their top priority. Rodney or Radek checked each base themselves, gathering every scrap of data they could find. Back on Atlantis, they and every scientist that could be spared pored over it, deciphering Michael's codes and translating his notes. Teyla _was_ mentioned, many times, she and her child, but all mentions of her were from when she'd been captive while pregnant with Torren. There was no mention of her since.

John oversaw it all in silence, not saying anything as he saw Woolsey get more disheartened with each negative report, or Ronon running for hours on end around the South Pier, or Rodney flinging a tablet away, tears in his eyes.

He didn't say a word, because he had already known.

_To be continued_


	13. Moving On

Check me out updating like a normal person instead of a cruel sadistic maniac who likes to leave you all hanging! Again, an angsty chapter. I have so many ideas for this story that are NON-angsty, but unfortunately I have to get past the angst first! The next chapter has been partly written for about two years, so will hopefully be up as speedily as this one.

Thanks for the reviews for the last chapter – it's nice to know people are still reading this!

**Chapter Thirteen – Moving On**

It was another three weeks before the memorial service was held. Halling, who was now the de facto leader of the Athosians, set the date and invited everyone from the Atlantis expedition to attend. John knew for a fact that the only reason it was so late was because Halling was incredibly tactful, and was giving them the opportunity to accept Teyla's loss before beginning to mourn it. Woolsey held a senior staff meeting and it was decided that this service would be the official one for Teyla – it would surely be more meaningful than any Earth service they could put together.

And so it was that almost every member of the Atlantis exhibition flew across to the mainland for the service. A skeleton crew was left behind in the city, and a shuttle service rota had to be implemented to get everyone across in the jumpers.

John wasn't asked to pilot one – Lorne was organising the jumpers, and seemed to guess that his commanding officer wouldn't be particularly open to the idea of being a chauffeur for the day.

John flew across to the mainland with Rodney, Ronon and Woolsey – Rodney piloting. John was wearing his Class As, like he had for Carson's funeral, and Elizabeth's memorial, and so many other services through the years... he couldn't remember the last time he'd worn his dress uniform to an event that hadn't involved someone he cared about dying.

This was different though – it was Teyla. _Teyla_.

John didn't cry, though there were many that did. Rodney didn't try to hide his tears as Halling and several other Athosians sang something in Ancient that John couldn't understand. Ronon had to turn away at one point, as Joah lit and then extinguished a set of candles. John stood completely still, back straight, eyes fixed on what was happening. He didn't understand a lot of what was said or sung, but he paid rapt attention.

He'd debated over whether it was a good idea, but he'd brought Torren with him. The boy was only eight months old, there was no way he'd remember it, but John wanted one day to tell him he'd been there. He held Torren in his arms, and though he was awake he kept his face turned into the side of John's neck, silently hiding. John figured that he didn't like seeing so many sombre people, and just kept his arms tight around him.

John had cried his tears for Teyla when they'd first lost her, when Torren had been born. He'd already broken his heart for it. And then he'd spent months on a wild goose chase, in the vain hope that she might still be alive, only to have his heart broken again. This time, though, he could barely feel it. He could barely feel anything – he was just numb.

Never again. He'd lost people in the past, but this one cut him deep, deeper than anyone else ever had. John had a feeling that he'd never fully recover, but he knew that he had to carry on... he was holding the reason why in his arms. So no more foolish hoping, no more pointless searching – Torren was officially the most important thing in his life, from this moment on.

The ceremony ended and the crowds began to disperse. John wandered away from them all, leaving Rodney and Ronon standing together. He walked Torren away from the jumpers, which was where most of the crowd was headed, and towards the tree line. It was up a slight incline, so soon John was overlooking the Athosian camp. He sat down on the ground and leaned back against a tree trunk, sitting Torren on his lap. Torren looked happier now that it was just the two of them, which John considered lucky since it was just going to be the two of them from here on out.

"Colonel Sheppard?"

It was Halling. John thought about getting to his feet, but he was too weary in body and soul, so he just nodded. Halling nodded back and sat down as well, a few feet away.

"It was a nice ceremony," John said, because that was the kind of thing one said at times like this. Plus it was actually true.

Halling nodded. "Indeed," he said. "Teyla would have been honoured to have seen the number of your people who attended."

"Yeah, well..." John said, looking away, across the tents. "She was... everybody loved Teyla."

Halling nodded again and the two of them sat in silence for a few minutes, John still staring out over the camp. Eventually Halling cleared his throat, and John looked back at him – he guessed that Halling hadn't followed him just to talk about the ceremony.

He guessed right. "The last of the treatments have been administered by Dr Keller and her team," he said. "It is time for us to leave this place."

John's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Leave?" He repeated. "Where are you gonna go?"

"To New Athos," Halling said patiently. "We had settled there before, begun a new life... we should like to return to it."

John looked away again. To be honest he hadn't given the future of the Athosians much thought at all, and he felt guilty for that... but now that he did he saw Halling's point. They couldn't stay here forever. They didn't have a gate, were completely reliant on Atlantis for everything. The Athosians weren't too proud to accept help when they needed it, but they wouldn't want to be dependent on others longer than necessary. John could respect and understand that.

He nodded and looked back at Halling. "Of course," he said. "I should've thought of it before."

"We have been happy to remain here while our people received treatment," Halling said. "But now we must move on. We must _all_ move on."

John didn't miss the tone of Halling's words, and he thought about them through the ride back to Atlantis. Rodney and Ronon, content to let John alone straight after the service, now stuck to him like glue – he had a feeling they'd made an agreement not to leave him alone for the rest of the day. He appreciated the sentiment, knowing that they meant well, but he wasn't going to have the break down they were clearly expecting from him.

After dinner they followed him back to his quarters, and somewhere along the way they picked up Radek, Lorne and Keller. The six of them drank beer and talked quietly while John held Torren – the one thing he had done that day was not let go of the boy.

John kept thinking about what Halling had said, about the Athosians moving on, and eventually he spoke up about it.

"Do you know that the Athosians want to go back to New Athos?" He piped up.

"Not surprising," Ronon said gruffly. "There's nothing for them on this world."

"At least they're safe," Rodney retorted.

"But they can't do anything – they don't have a gate," Ronon said.

"Well they're back to normal," Keller said. "I don't have a problem with them going, from a medical perspective."

"I guess it's up to Woolsey," Lorne volunteered.

"Guess so," John said. He knew Woolsey would let them leave – it wasn't like the Athosians were their prisoners, they had no right to keep them on the mainland. Besides, it was in Atlantis' best interests that the Athosians got back to New Athos and back to farming – they were a key trading partner.

"I'm gonna have to see about spending time there," John said. "I mean when Torren's a bit older. I guess Teyla was planning for him to, you know, be raised Athosian... maybe she was planning to move back with her people, I don't know." It was just one of the things he'd never thought to ask her when he'd had the chance. Even after he'd gotten over the initial shock of her pregnancy, he'd still avoided the subject as best he could, not wanting to think about the future and Teyla as the mother of some other man's child.

Funny how things turn out.

He looked at Ronon and Rodney, who both looked blankly at him. "Dunno," Ronon said simply. John looked at the others – they looked thoughtful, but Keller was just staring down at her drink, frowning.

"I'm sure Halling will know more about it than I do," John said. "He'll know what Torren needs to be taught and when."

"You want him to learn to be a farmer?" Rodney said incredulously.

"Well why not?" John said defensively. "Torren's Athosian, he has to learn what that means. It's what Teyla would have wanted."

Rodney backed down, looking sheepish, and everyone else looked away. Keller was still frowning.

Torren was starting to nod off, so John began getting him ready for bed. He left the others nursing their beers while he changed Torren into his pyjamas and settled him in his crib. He was actually starting to get a bit big for the crib now – John would have to start thinking about getting him a new one. He'd ask Halling what kind of crib he should get next.

"Well it's been a long day – I think I will head off," Radek said.

"Yeah, I think I'll join you, Doc," Lorne said. John nodded to both of them as they left. It _had _been a long day, an emotionally draining one, and John was feeling the pull of sleep as well. He watched Torren as he fell asleep, ignoring the clink of beer bottles behind him as the other three got up to leave as well. He waved over his shoulder at Rodney and Ronon's "good night"s and kept watching Torren until he was sure the kid was asleep.

John eventually turned back round and saw that not everyone was gone... Keller was lingering awkwardly by the door. When John looked at her she cleared her throat nervously. "Could I have a word?"She said quietly.

When a doctor looks nervous and asks for a word, it's never a good sign, and John panicked immediately. "Is something wrong?" He asked, glancing down at Torren. "Is something wrong with –"

"No – no, nothing like that," Keller said immediately, taking a step towards him. John calmed down and looked at her expectantly. She took a deep breath. "I just – look, this probably isn't my place – it _definitely _isn't my place… But – "

"Keller." John gave her a pointed look, and she stopped babbling. She looked past him, at Torren asleep in his crib, and sighed.

"My Mom died when I was ten," she said, unexpectedly. John raised his eyebrows, not sure what to say to that, but after a moment she carried on. She folded her arms and looked down at the floor as she spoke. "It was really sudden – she was in a car accident. And my Dad… Well, until then he'd always travelled a lot for work, but he switched jobs and came home to look after me. And at first he tried to keep things the same – the same routines, tried to do things the way my Mom did. But it didn't work, and after a while he stopped trying to be my Mom and just focused on being my Dad."

She looked at John then, a look with a meaning that he was clearly meant to get. He honestly didn't know what she was trying to tell him, and to be honest he really wasn't in the mood to play guessing games.

"What's your point?" He said bluntly.

"I think you're overthinking everything," Keller said, equally bluntly. "You're second-guessing yourself, overthinking every single decision. And that's not good for either of you."

John folded his arms defensively. "Yeah, well, it's not like I've had to raise a dead friend's kid before," he said frostily. He really wasn't in the mood for a discussion of his parenting skills, or lack thereof. Did Keller have no sense of timing? They'd just got back from _Teyla's funeral _for crying out loud! He glared at her, and Keller sighed and looked away. For a moment John thought he'd won, but she soon looked back at him, looking determined.

"Teyla explained the Guardian thing to me before she… was taken," she said. "She told me that the reason she chose you was because she trusts you more than anyone else she knew."

That knocked the fight out of John. "She did?" He said quietly.

Keller nodded. "Teyla didn't choose you because she thought you'd raise her son the way she would – she chose you because she trusted you to raise him right," she said firmly. "You have to stop constantly trying to figure out what Teyla would have done, and just do things your way instead." She sighed again. "You can't replace Teyla – no one could ever do that. You need to just look after him the best way you know how – I honestly think that's what Teyla wanted." She looked away again then, and John was a little shocked to see tears in her eyes.

He swallowed, looking down at Torren again – he was still fast asleep, his face turned towards John. God, he looked so much like Teyla.

He looked back at Keller, who was watching him again, the tears gone from her eyes. His arms dropped to his side and he sat down on the end of his bed, all his energy gone. "I don't have a clue what I'm doing," he admitted, staring at the floor.

Keller paused for a moment before answering. "Well, for what it's worth, I think you're doing great," she said. John looked up at her – her expression was completely earnest. After a few moments of silence she looked faintly embarrassed and started to back towards the door. "Okay, well, that's all I wanted to say," she said sheepishly. "I'll let you two alone now."

John cleared his throat. "Jennifer – thank you."

Keller paused by the door and gave him a small smile, before activating the door controls and quickly leaving the room.

John flopped back on his bed, staring up at the ceiling and thinking over what Keller had just said to him. He'd had no idea that Teyla had mentioned the Guardian thing to anyone else, let alone explained her reasons for choosing him... and he was both humbled and terrified by the fact that she'd trusted him that much. The problem was that John really didn't feel he'd earned that level of trust from Teyla, after letting her and her people be taken by Michael and then failing to get her back. But the fact remained that he _was _Torren's Guardian, and that made him the closest thing the kid had to a parent.

And he couldn't help but think that Keller was right. He _was _overthinking everything... but how could he not? He'd meant what he said – he had _no idea _what he was doing. Even if Torren was his own kid, he'd have no idea. The fact that he was Teyla's, and that John had been chosen by her to look after him, just amplified the fact that he had no clue how to raise a child. He'd been trying to ignore the pressure, but now he let it overrun his mind, and his greatest fear came bubbling up to the service: _what if he screwed up with Torren like he had with Teyla?_

John didn't sleep much that night. Torren woke up a few times – he'd just started teething and it seemed to hurt him most during the night. The rest of the time John spent lying awake in his bed, staring at the patterns of moonlight on his walls and wondering what he should do. It was all very well to decide to try and stop overthinking decisions, but it was definitely easier said than done. Even if he didn't turn to Halling for help with every decision, he still wanted Torren to be as involved with the Athosians as possible. He was still going to be raising Torren in Atlantis, surrounded by people who had known Teyla and would be scrutinising his every move, even if they didn't mean to. He was still going to see the spectre of Teyla around every corner, in every corridor, every time he looked at Torren and every time he closed his eyes...

By the next morning John had decided what to do, and he went straight to visit Woolsey after he and Torren were dressed and decent. Woolsey was an early bird, always in his office before the morning shift started, and he showed no signs of surprise at seeing John walk across the gangway between the control room and his office.

"Good morning Colonel," he said, smiling slightly. "How are you?"

John sat down, Torren in his lap, and set his shoulders, steeling himself for the conversation. "I'm alright, but..." John's arms tightened around Torren as he looked frankly at Woolsey. "I need to go back to Earth."

_To be continued..._


	14. Back to Earth

As I was writing this chapter I experienced a sense of déjà vu... I soon realised it was because this chapter is uncannily similar to the third chapter of my very first Atlantis multi-chapter, 'Baby Love'... ( cheesiest story ever!) Anyway, I've tried to avoid overlap wherever possible, but most of the same characters and situations are involved as well as there being a baby, so it's definitely similar!

This chapter was going to be longer, but I realised it was already well over 2000 words long, so decided to cut it. Not much happens... I'll try to get the next chapter up quick!

**Chapter Fourteen – Back to Earth**

"You're coming back, right?"

John sighed impatiently and rolled his eyes. "Yes, Rodney," he said for at least the twentieth time in three days. "I'm coming back."

"When?" Ronon asked from John's other side.

John fought not to roll his eyes again. "I'm spending two weeks on Earth and then getting on the Daedalus and coming straight back," he said, for about the thirtieth time. "I'll be back in just over a month."

"What are we supposed to do for a month?" Rodney demanded petulantly.

"You're always moaning that you don't have enough lab time because of missions," John said. "And Ronon is joining Lorne's team while Anders is on medical leave – you'll both survive."

Rodney and Ronon both opened their mouths to speak, but John held up a hand to stop them. "Guys – I'm coming back," he said firmly. He looked at them both seriously. "I'm sorry, but I have to do this – I need a break."

Neither of them looked convinced, or happy about the situation, and John knew why. They thought his decision to go back to Earth for some R&R was a symptom of some kind of grief-induced mental breakdown, when actually it was the sanest thing he'd done since Teyla had gone missing. He needed time to get his head on straight, time to come to terms with Teyla's loss... and most importantly he needed time to learn to look after Torren his own way.

Speaking of whom, Torren was currently being hugged goodbye by Keller, who stood a few feet from them. John was a little worried that the boy was awake – he'd been napping peacefully until Rodney, Ronon and then Keller had started making a fuss over him. Now he was wide awake, which wasn't really a _problem_, it was just that John wasn't sure how he'd react to his first trip through the Stargate.

Keller walked over to them and handed Torren to John, who balanced him on his hip while he slung a large duffel bag over his other shoulder. Torren gave John a wide, toothless grin – he could tell something exciting was happening, even if he didn't know what. He was getting more and more like a proper person every day, not to mention bigger seemingly by the second. One of the reasons John wanted to go to Earth was to buy Torren some new stuff – he really didn't have that many outfits that fit him anymore.

"Okay, buddy, ready to go?" John said cheerfully. Torren just smiled again and gurgled. John looked over his shoulder at the control room and nodded – Woolsey was standing by the DHD and nodded back. He said something to Chuck, who began dialling the gate.

They all turned to look at the gate as it connected – the wormhole engaged and John tightened his grip on Torren, but even though the boy had never been through it he had seen the gate engage before, and he didn't react except to stare round at the shimmering surface of the wormhole. John wandered closer to the gate, waiting for the all-clear. As he got closer, Torren stretched out a hand to try and touch the event horizon. John smiled and grabbed hold of his hand, pulling him back.

"You're clear to go through, Colonel," Woolsey said over the mic from the control room. John turned to look at him again, and Woolsey nodded to him. "See you in a month."

John nodded back and gave the gate room a swift, assessing look – this would be the longest he'd been away since the time the Ancients had returned. Leaving then had been torture – knowing he might never come back, saying goodbye to Teyla... John shook his head to clear the memory of her sad smile as he'd walked away. He felt the same crushing numbness he'd been trying to ignore for days, and knew he was making the right decision – he had to get out of there.

He looked over to where Ronon and Rodney stood, and gave them a lopsided smile. "I'll be back," he said firmly, before taking a deep breath and carrying Torren straight through the gate.

The journey was longer than average, stretching across two galaxies, but it was still only a few seconds later that John stepped out of the stargate at the SGC, the metal ramp hard and familiar beneath his feet. John immediately turned his attention to the baby in his arms – Torren's eyes were wide with shock, and as he looked around at the unfamiliar room and people his face started to crumple in distress. John shifted him round so he was facing him, and cupped the back of the boy's head.

"Hey, it's okay, look – I'm right here with you," he said softly. Torren focused on John's face and his expression cleared somewhat, though he was clearly still not particularly happy. He buried his face in John's neck and clung tightly to his shirt.

"Colonel?"

John looked up and saw Doctor Lam standing at the bottom of the ramp, her hands in her lab coat pockets and an expectant look on her face. He sighed inwardly – the fact that she was meeting him in the gate room suggested that life was not going to be fun for him and Torren for the next couple of hours.

"Hi Doc," he said, making his way down the ramp towards her. "How's it going?"

"Fine, thanks," she said. "Welcome home."

John raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything – Lam looked like she sensed her mistake, as she smiled slightly and switched her attention to Torren.

"This must be Torren," she said. She bent her neck so he could see her face – Torren peered at her for a moment before using John to hide again. Lam smiled wider and then gave John an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, but I'll need to run some tests on you both."

"I figured," John said ruefully.

At that moment Doctor Lam's father, General Landry, appeared behind his daughter. John stood to attention the best he could while holding a duffel bag and a baby.

"Good to see you again Colonel," Landry said.

"Thank you Sir, you too," John replied truthfully. He had a lot of time for Landry – he'd had endless patience with John when he'd been assigned to the SGC and it was clear to the whole base that he'd rather be elsewhere.

"Just back for some R&R I hear?" He said.

"Yes Sir – hitching a ride back with the Daedalus in two weeks."

Landry nodded. "Well you won't get much R&R with a baby to look after," he said. "And it just gets worse as they get older."

Dr Lam pursed her lips and gave the General a sardonic look, which he returned with a completely innocent one. John smiled slightly and tightened his grip on Torren as Lam nodded to him and led him out of the gate room.

As predicted, the next little while was not fun. Torren relaxed a little bit in the infirmary, as it was very like the Atlantis one and more familiar to him, and he sat quite happily while Lam drew some of John's blood and examined him, all the while quizzing him about Torren's development. John was relieved to hear Lam agree with Keller's assessment that he was developing exactly as he should, and at the right stage of eating solids and teething and all of that. John seriously had no frame of reference.

Then Lam turned her attention to Torren and all the boy's bravery was gone. John had to hold him as he bawled his head off through having blood drawn and being examined. To be honest, John didn't blame the kid.

Torren's crying drew quite a few curious visitors to the infirmary – John guessed that a lot of people had missed the memo of a baby from the Pegasus Galaxy arriving in the SGC – but one of the visitors was someone John was actually pleased to see: Cameron Mitchell. He arrived, luckily, just as Doctor Lam had moved off and Torren had calmed down a bit, so John was actually able to hear him.

"Well look what the Pegasus Galaxy dragged in," Mitchell said, strolling into the room.

John managed a genuine smile. "Hey Mitch," he said. He'd first met Cameron Mitchell when he and some more of SG-1 had come to Atlantis on a fact-finding mission, and though he hadn't spent much time with him they had hit it off right away. Then Rodney had come back from a trip aboard the Daedalus with the man complaining non-stop about him, which had only endeared him to John more. When John had been assigned to the SGC for those six torturous weeks, Mitchell had really looked out for him.

John had a great respect for Mitchell – in fact, he'd often thought that they were very similar, and if he – John – had been a bit more of a good soldier, he probably would have followed a path similar to Mitchell's. John wasn't arrogant but he knew he was a damn good pilot, and he felt sure that if he hadn't made such a mess of his career in Afghanistan, he would have been transferred to the X-303 unit... from there it was a natural progression to the SGC.

Not that he could regret being assigned to Atlantis instead... thank god for the ATA gene.

Mitchell walked over to where John sat on one of the gurneys, Torren cradled against his chest. "Honestly, Shep, I could hear you crying all the way down the hall – Carolyn isn't _that _bad," he said with a smirk.

John responded with a smirk of his own. "_Carolyn_?" He asked pointedly.

Mitchell seemed to realise his teasing had backfired on him, because he quickly changed the subject. "So this is Torren?" He said, stopping next to them. Torren peered up at him through wet eyes, and Mitchell smiled at him before giving John a small smile as well. "He looks just like Teyla."

John nodded, and Mitchell nodded as well – he knew that there was nothing he could say. He sat down next to him on the gurney, turning his attention to Torren again.

"It's so weird seeing you with a _baby_," he said after a moment.

John shook his head, looking down at Torren who was a bit calmer now, but had John's shirt clenched in his little fists. It had been a while since he'd thought of having Torren with him as weird, but he could imagine how strange it must be for Mitchell to see him with a baby clinging to him.

"You get used to it," he said.

"So you're looking after him now, right?" Mitchell said, taking a seat next to him on the gurney. "You're his..."

"Guardian, yeah," John said. "Woolsey's already okayed it for him to stay on Atlantis with me, and there are plenty of willing babysitters. Plus there's the Athosians – Teyla's people – so it will be fine."

"So how's my old friend McKay?" Mitchell asked with a smirk.

John smiled and opened his mouth to say that Rodney was the same as ever, but something made him stop. The thing was, he wasn't. Neither was Ronon. None of them were.

"He's coping," John said instead.

Mitchell gave him an understanding look and just nodded as Dr Lam came walking back in.

"Okay Colonel, you and Torren have both checked out so you're free to leave the base," she said. "The General's been called into a meeting but he said that there's a car waiting for you upstairs to take you wherever you need to go."

"Great," said John standing up. He glanced at his shirt lying on the bed behind him and down at Torren in his arms. Mitchell stood up as well and John smiled evilly.

"Here, hold him for a second," he said. And, before Mitchell could protest, John deposited the baby in his arms.

"Woah – I – okay..." Mitchell held on to Torren kind of awkwardly, a look of abject terror in his eyes. John saw him glance at Lam, who was trying very hard not laugh. John smirked to himself and pulled his shirt on over his t-shirt, buttoning it up as quickly as possible.

He turned back to Mitchell, who was now giving him a death-glare, and Torren, who just looked plain confused.

"He likes you," John said innocently.

Torren turned his head at the sound of John's voice, and as soon as he saw him he held out his arms to him, demanding to be taken back. John grinned and obliged. Mitchell looked all kinds of relieved to be baby-less again.

"He likes you more," he noted as Torren settled happily against John.

John shrugged. "It's the hair," he said.

He said his goodbyes to Mitchell and Lam, promising Mitchell that they would meet up before his return on the Daedalus, and made his way up to the surface. He recognised a couple of the people at the SGC from his time there and he nodded hello to them, noting wryly the way their eyebrows disappeared into their hairlines at the sight of him with a baby.

As Mitchell had said, there was a car waiting for him on the surface – John planned to hire a car for the rest of his stay, but he was appreciative of the general's initiative. It wasn't until John got into the backseat with Torren still in his arms that he realised it would be the boy's first time in a car – in fact in any kind of moving vehicle in which he'd be able to feel they were moving. He also realised he had nowhere to put him.

"Where to, sir?" Asked the young airman in the driver's seat.

John glanced down at Torren, who was looking around curiously.

"The nearest place to buy a carseat," he said.

TBC

_Next up – John and Torren on Earth, and a Sheppard family reunion. _


	15. Brotherhood and Fatherhood

I think two months is pretty good going update-wise for me! I am especially happy to be posting this chapter, because it was one of the first scenes I ever wrote for this story, meaning it's been sitting in my Guardian folder for _two years_. So, hurrah!

More angst, I'm afraid. It starts to lighten up in the next chapter, and starts to speed up as well...

**Chapter Fifteen – Brotherhood and Fatherhood**

John was on Earth for almost a fortnight before he drummed up the courage to call his brother. At first he didn't really think about it; he'd come to Earth because being on Atlantis had been too difficult for him in the face of Teyla's loss, and the time alone with Torren on Earth was like a tonic to him, erasing everything else. By the end of the first week he felt better than he had in months. Then, after realising that he really should probably give Dave a call, he put it off because he genuinely had other things to do – buying things for Torren, sorting out things like college funds and savings accounts (hey, you never know). But finally, he only had two days before he was due to leave on the Daedalus and his guilt wouldn't let him put it off any longer.

The thing was, John was very wary about going to see his brother, because he had no idea how he would react to Torren. Actually, that wasn't true – John knew _exactly _how he would react; he wouldn't understand. And more than that... spending time with his brother just brought home to John all sorts of childhood memories that he'd rather not think about, specifically of their father. Raising Torren alone was enough of a challenge without the memory of his god-awful relationship with his Dad.

Still, Dave had to be told about Torren sometime. John had already put off telling him over email, and who knew when he'd next be on Earth? Plus his sister-in-law, Ellen, must be pretty far along in her pregnancy now, and he felt bad about not trying to be involved. So, after a relaxing morning trip to the park to calm his nerves, John sat in the front seat of his rented SUV and pulled out his cell phone. Torren was sitting in his car seat in the back, happily bashing a plastic teething ring against the side of the seat.

John hesitated for a moment before taking a deep breath and pressing dial. It was possible – if not likely – that Dave and Ellen were back in California. It was the summer after all, and the California mansion was much nicer than the farm in the hot months...

"_Hello?_"

So much for that theory – John had no trouble identifying his brother's voice over the line. He tightened his grip on the phone.

"Hi Dave – it's John."

"_John? Hey… how are you? __**Where**__ are you?_"

Dave actually – surprisingly – sounded quite pleased to hear from him. John relaxed a little.

"Actually I'm in town… I was thinking I could drop by?"

"_You're… yeah, come round. Wait 'til you see how big Ellen is!_"

"I'll be there in about twenty minutes," John said. He glanced in the mirror at Torren and grimaced. "Listen Dave… don't freak out when you see me, okay?"

"_Why would I freak out? What's happened?_" Dave demanded sharply.

"Nothing, nothing – I'll see you in twenty."

John snapped the phone shut and tossed it onto the seat next to him, and then swivelled round in his chair to look at Torren. He was still having fun bashing his teething ring. John smiled and turned back round, and started the car.

It took John just over fifteen minutes to get to his brother's house, a house he hadn't been to since just after his father's funeral. John sighed as he parked the car in the driveway. His relationship with Dave had definitely improved since then – they were talking, for starters – but he wasn't sure what Dave's reaction to Torren would be. He didn't want it to come between them, just as they were starting from scratch.

The front door of the house opened and suddenly there was Dave, looking the same as ever. He grinned and waved to John. John waved back and jumped out of the car. Dave started to walk down the front steps but stopped short when John opened the back door of the car. He gave his brother a weak smile and reached in to unbuckle Torren. By the time he'd straightened up with Torren on one hip and his supply bag over the other shoulder, Dave had disappeared.

The front door was still open though – John guessed that was a start. He gave Torren a smile. "Well, here goes nothing," he said, bouncing the boy and making him giggle. Bolstered a little by the sound, John made his way up the driveway to the front door.

As he reached the bottom of the front steps a figure appeared in the doorway – a very pregnant figure. Dave had obviously told Ellen what was going on, because she showed only the slightest surprise at seeing John with Torren in his arms.

"John, welcome home!" She said warmly, smiling at him as he bounded up the steps towards her.

John resisted the impulse to correct her words and just smiled back, leaning down to kiss her on the cheek. "Hi Ellen," he said. "Wow, you're huge!"

"It's called _pregnancy_, John," Ellen said, rolling her eyes and closing the door behind him.

John snorted at the sarcasm, but shook his head at her size. He'd worked out that she must be about seven months gone, but she really was massive. She was quite petite, which obviously served to emphasise her bump, but even so there was no way she looked seven months. "I know, but you look full-term already," he said. "Are you having twins?"

Ellen looked surprised at the question. "Well, yes," she said. "Didn't David tell you?"

John blinked. "Er, no," he said. "Congratulations, I guess!"

Ellen smiled again. "Thank you John," she said.

John recovered from his surprise and smirked. "I just thought you were going to have a really fat baby…"

"Like you, you mean?" She countered. "I have it on good authority that you weighed almost ten pounds when you were born…"

"It was all muscle."

Ellen laughed and John grinned – he'd forgotten how much he'd liked his sister-in-law. She hadn't been at the funeral, now that he thought of it... or he hadn't seen her, at least. He had lost touch with her when he'd lost touch with the rest of his family – it was nice to have that relationship to rebuild as well.

Well, try to rebuild. John looked around for Dave – there was no sign of him.

"He's in the bar lounge," Ellen said, nodding to a door on their right.

John nodded. "Yeah, I can see why he might be," he said.

Ellen let herself really study Torren for the first time, and the boy immediately buried his face in John's neck, shy of the strange lady. John could tell she was bursting with questions but held herself back out of politeness as she led the way into the adjoining lounge.

Dave was behind the bar, fixing himself what looked like a pretty strong drink. He looked up at John when he walked in, glanced down at Torren and then went back to pouring. John rolled his eyes and walked over to one of the giant couches, his eyes lingering on the stools he and Ronon had sat on when they'd been here for his father's funeral.

He sat down on the couch and put Torren on the seat next to him. He reached into the supply bag and pulled out a stuffed bunny, which he handed to Torren to keep him entertained through what John was sure would be a pretty draining conversation. Ellen lowered herself onto the couch opposite John, and he could only watch her for a moment before looking away; the awkward movement brought back floods of memories of Teyla pregnant.

"So how long you been in town?" Dave said from behind the bar. John resisted the urge to roll his eyes again – only his brother would be stubborn enough not to ask the obvious question first.

"I've been around for a week or so, but I'm heading back to base in a couple of days," John said, matching Dave's nonchalant tone.

"Can I get you a drink?"

"Just a Coke would be good; I'm driving."

"Ellen?"

"Iced water, please."

John looked back at Ellen and they shared a small smile – they both knew Dave was just trying to ignore the thing that was bothering him. Ellen had always understood Dave, just as John had; the difference was that she had the patience of a saint and put up with his strange moods, whereas John had no time for them.

John sat with one arm around Torren's shoulders as the boy chewed on the bunny's ear and stared up at the oak panelling and gilded pictures that hung from the walls. After a few minutes Dave came over bearing a small tray and placed the drinks on the table between the two couches, and sat down next to his wife. John picked up his Coke, noting as he did so that Dave was drinking straight bourbon. Ouch.

"So…" started David, glancing down at Torren again. He looked back up at John, who raised his eyebrows at him. Dave picked up his glass. "How's everything going in… wherever you are?"

Stubborn as a mule. Even Ellen rolled her eyes that time. John just shrugged. "Okay," he said. "We've had a change of leadership, but my job's the same… with some extra responsibilities nowadays."

Dave's eyes narrowed at that, and John knew he was thinking up some other mundane question to ask. But he'd had enough of playing mind games with his brother – that's not why he'd come here.

"Okay," John said. "First off, he's not mine."

John didn't miss the look of relief that flashed across Dave's face. "He's not?" He asked.

John shook his head. "No. His mother, Teyla, is…" John stopped short and swallowed, forcing himself to change tense. "_Was_ a friend of mine. I agreed to be his Guardian if anything happened…"

"And something happened?" Ellen asked quietly.

John paused and then nodded, knowing he couldn't tell them much. "She went missing a while back, just after Torren was born," he explained quickly, not really wanting to relive it, even abridged. "We found out she was dead a couple of weeks ago."

"Oh John," said Ellen sympathetically. "I'm so sorry."

John shrugged. "Yeah," he said with a casualness he didn't feel. He looked away from Ellen's sorrowful expression to his brother; Dave was looking thoughtful.

"What about his father?" Dave asked after a moment.

"He's dead too," said John shortly.

Dave frowned. "And he doesn't have any other family?"

John clenched his teeth. He _knew _Dave would react like this. He knew he wouldn't understand.

He forced himself to just calm down and answer the question. "He does – there are some cousins," John said truthfully. How was he going to explain this properly? "But, well, among Teyla's people, it's the Guardian that looks after the kid when the parents are gone. It's a pretty big deal to them."

Dave's frown just deepened. "I don't understand why you have to –"

"Teyla asked me to look after her son, and I said I would," John said flatly, cutting his brother off. "I'm happy to do it." As if to prove his point, John reached over and pulled Torren onto his lap – really though, it was because John just wanted him closer, almost for support. Torren settled happily against John and John wrapped both his arms around him.

Dave looked like he was going to respond, but Ellen cut in before he could. "Of course you are," she said to John seriously. John pretended not to see the warning look she shot at his brother, or how Dave glared down at the floor. Ellen turned back to John. "What did you say his name was?"

"Torren – he's named after Teyla's father."

Ellen looked down at Torren and gave him a big smile. "Hello Torren," she said softly. "I'm Ellen – though I guess _you _can call me Auntie Ellen." She reached out to touch his cheek but Torren quickly turned his face into John's chest, hiding from her.

"Torren," John admonished softly, stroking his hair. He gave Ellen a sheepish look. "Sorry, he's teething and it's making him a bit loopy."

Ellen just grinned. "He's beautiful John," she said earnestly.

John smiled at her tone, as if he had anything to do with how beautiful Torren was. "He looks like his Mom," he explained.

Ellen gave him a sad smile. "How old is he?"

"Eight months."

"How long have you been his… Guardian?" Asked Dave.

John looked over at his brother – he could see where this was going. At least Dave wasn't glaring or frowning though, which was something.

"Teyla asked me a few months before he was born," he explained, "but I've been looking after him since he was about a week old." He was quick to continue, because this was one thing he did feel a little bad about.

"I know I probably should have said something, but it didn't seem right to tell you about it over email," he said. He tightened his hold on Torren. "Besides, I hoped we'd find Teyla."

Dave was silent for a moment, his face impassive, but then his expression turned sympathetic. "I'm sorry, John," he said. "You must have been close, to do something like this."

"Yeah we were," said John, his throat suddenly very thick. "Thanks."

Dave nodded and the two brothers both looked away from each other. They didn't really do deep emotions – they never had. John knew that Dave wasn't going to kick up a fuss about Torren now that he got why he was doing it, and that was all he really wanted. He didn't expect or particularly want deep emotional support from him.

John cleared his throat after a few moments' silence. "So, er, where is everyone?" He asked, trying to lighten the mood. "I've been expecting Mrs Garrison to come storming in at any moment because I'm not using a coaster…"

"Mrs Garrison is seventy-eight now – she doesn't really _storm _anymore," said Dave, smiling. "Still though, you should probably use a coaster…" He looked around and, finding one, quickly handed it across the table to John, who was smirking. Not that he blamed Dave for still being afraid of the formidable old housekeeper.

"Anyway, most of the staff are at Greenmarket for the day," said Dave. "It's the third Saturday of July."

John's eyes widened as he realised that he'd come to visit his brother on the day of the biggest Summer fete in the district. Greenmarket was a town nearby, and John and Dave had used to go to the fete every single July when they were kids. They had especially loved the charity golf tournament that took place at the Greenmarket Golf Club in the afternoon – John had even won the under-fourteens tournament one year.

"Wow, I haven't even thought of Greenmarket in _years_," John said with a rueful grin. "I'm surprised you two didn't go."

Dave shrugged. "Ellen didn't really feel up to it," he said.

"Yes, the thought of dragging my stomach around a golf course for five hours was _not _appealing," Ellen agreed.

John rolled his eyes jokingly. "Women," he said cheekily. He looked over at Dave, expecting his brother to be at least smiling at the exchange, but instead found him staring at Torren. And Torren was staring right back.

"Er, Dave?" John said.

"He's staring at me!" Dave exclaimed.

John smirked. "Babies do that," he said. "All the time."

"But _why_?"

John was reminded forcefully of Rodney, and his smirk turned into a grin. "It's all part of their plan for world domination," he quipped. "You'd better get used to it; you're going to have one of these in a couple of months. Two in fact."

That made Dave raise his eyes from Torren, and he smiled. "Ellen told you it's twins?"

"Yeah – why didn't you mention it?"

"Actually, I wanted you to come to visit and find two babies instead of one – I thought it would be a good surprise," Dave said. He looked down at Torren again and chuckled. "I guess you won that one though."

"Will you stay for dinner, John?" Ellen asked him.

"Erm... sure, thanks," John said. "If it's not any trouble."

"None at all – dinner was all prepared by the staff before they left," Ellen told him. "I'm not really much use in the kitchen these days, and Dave can't even make oatmeal without burning it."

"That is not my fault," Dave protested. "Mrs Thoms never let me in the kitchen, so how was I supposed to learn to cook?" He narrowed his eyes at John. "Though you always seemed to get into the kitchen."

John grinned. "I used to sneak in and steal food – she soon realised that it was better to invite me in and keep an eye on me," he said. He shook his head. "Wow, Mrs Thoms... does she still work for you?"

Dave nodded. "Yep, she's at Greenmarket too," he said. "She and Mrs Garrison are going to be really sorry they missed you."

"Me too."

"You should stay over," Ellen said suddenly.

John's eyes widened. "I... I don't think so," he said awkwardly.

"No, really – stay," Ellen said. "You said yourself you have to go back to base in a couple of days, so who knows when we'll next see you. You'll be able to see Mrs Garrison and Mrs Thoms... and you could have a beer without worrying about driving."

"Torren..."

"We have a crib he can sleep in," Ellen said. "In fact we have two. And baby monitors and changing mats and diapers and I bet everything else you might need..."

John felt slightly cornered and looked to his brother for a way out, but to his surprise Dave was nodding, actually agreeing with Ellen. "Yeah, John, you should stay," he said.

John was so shocked by David's words that he actually agreed to them.

XXX

John suspected, hours later, that the real reason Ellen had insisted he stay over was so she could spend the entire time fussing over Torren. She insisted on looking after him through dinner and afterwards, feeding him herself, playing with him, changing him… John had to help her out, seeing as she couldn't really move all that gracefully at the moment, but on the whole he took a backseat to Torren's care throughout the evening. And when the time came to put him to bed, Ellen had shooed John away and gone to put him down herself. John just grinned at Torren's contended look as Ellen carried him away, and went outside to join his brother on the deck. He sat down at one of the wooden tables and accepted a beer from him.

"Ellen's a natural," John said. "Though newborns are harder – they're so tiny, you just think you're going to break them."

Dave nodded. "Yeah, she can't wait to be a Mom," he said.

John noted that Dave didn't mention his own excitement at the prospect of being a Dad, but decided not to say anything. He took a pull of beer and looked out over the garden towards the stables.

"Where was Ellen when I was here before?" John asked after a moment. "Did you say she was visiting her sister or something?"

Dave nodded, not looking at him. "Yeah, she took off straight after the funeral," he said. "We… well, we kind of had a fight."

John raised his eyebrows, surprised his brother was telling him something so personal. Dave was clearly waiting for him to say something, so John cleared his throat. "Oh? What about?"

Dave looked at him then. "You."

John frowned. "What?"

Dave shifted in his seat and leant forward, resting his elbows on his knees and dangling his beer bottle in both hands. "You probably don't know this, since after it happened we never… you know, _spoke_… but Ellen was really, really upset your fight with Dad," he said. "I've never really seen her that angry."

John gaped at him; it was hard to imagine Ellen angry… especially at him. She was always so nice to him, nicer and more patient than anyone he knew. "I – I had no idea," he said awkwardly. "She never said anything…"

Dave gave him a swift, hard look. "She wasn't angry at _you_," he said. "She was angry at Dad." John stared at his brother as he sighed and looked back out over the garden. "And at me… actually, _especially_ at me."

"What for?"

Dave took a sip of beer before answering. "Dad drove you away – and I let it happen."

John was shocked, really shocked. He shook his head. "What happened between me and Dad was… what could you have done?" He asked, nonplussed.

"I should have stuck up for you," Dave said flatly.

John's eyes widened. "I never expected you to," he said truthfully.

Dave looked at him again. "You shouldn't have to _expect _it – I'm your big brother, I should have just done it," he said firmly.

John swallowed. "Dave…"

"All my life, all I ever wanted to do was make Dad proud," Dave said, looking away again. "I did everything I could to be a good son, and you…" – he gave John a brief, sardonic look – "you went your own way, did your own thing. It drove Dad crazy, and it drove me crazy too because I just couldn't see why you couldn't just be a good son."

John stared at his brother as the words poured out of him, resisting the urge to interrupt with a joke and a change of subject, or simply run away. They didn't talk about this kind of thing. Ever.

Dave seemed to have forgotten that, though, and he ploughed ahead. "And when you had your big fallout with Dad I took his side and didn't say anything because I thought that it was better all round to sever ties. But I felt really guilty, really bad about it."

Dave looked round at John again, and this time it was John that looked away, hiding his discomfort by taking a swig of his beer.

"I've been thinking about Dad a lot, lately, now that I'm about to become a Dad myself," Dave said after a moment. John looked back at Dave, a little surprised – the truth was, he'd been thinking about their Dad a lot as well, since taking on Torren. Not in any depth, but at odd moments, usually when he was at his most low. Mostly he'd been wishing he'd had a better role model… something he doubted Dave was experiencing. Dave had always idolized their Dad.

David took a deep breath before continuing. "I realize now that all you ever did was follow your dreams," he said. "You never wanted to work in the business, you wanted to fly. Dad thought of it as something you were doing just to annoy him, but it wasn't – you always wanted to fly, ever since you were really little, it was nothing to do with Dad. It wasn't like you disgraced the family or, or did something illegal or awful… you just didn't let him control you, and _that's _what he hated."

Dave looked at John, who stared back at him, frozen in shock. "It wasn't that you weren't a good son…" he said, "the problem was that he was a bad father."

He looked away and took a sip of his beer before dropping his head and staring at the floor in silence. John sat staring at his profile, and for the first time in his life he felt like he really understood his brother.

"You are nothing like him," he said firmly.

Dave shook his head. "I'm exactly like him."

John leant forward. "No, you're not," he said. "Neither of us are."

Dave shook his head, and John put his beer on the table so he could lean forward more. "You said it yourself, you just wanted to be a good son – everything you did, you had good intentions."

Dave gave him a sardonic look at that, and John smiled ruefully. "Okay, sometimes a little misplaced," he said. "Besides, you weren't entirely wrong about me; annoying Dad wasn't my primary goal in life, but I did see it as a perk."

Dave chuckled, and John smiled again. Dave stopped laughing after a few seconds, and looked at John properly. The humour faded from his face and he looked at him seriously.

"I'm really sorry, John."

John nodded. "So am I."

_TBC – next up, John and Torren return to Atlantis to find a few things have changed. _


	16. Far From Home

It seems that every chapter I write I have to begin by apologising for a long delay in posting, and this one's no exception. However, I'm declaring war on two of my (many!) WIPs, this one and a Primeval one. They've both been dragging on for far too long. This one, especially, has been on my back for such a long time… I started writing it in _2008_. That's just ridiculous, and I really do apologise.

Anyway, from now on, this story's going to start jumping in time quite a lot, so we'll see John and Torren's relationship progress and Torren gets older. I'm going to try and start posting a few chapters at a time (or at least very close together) because if I was one of you, reading this, I would be so bored of it by now! We haven't even got to the most important part of the story yet.

So I just want to say thank you all so much for sticking with this story for getting on for four years, and I hope you continue to stick with it. My aim is to get it finished before its fourth birthday, which I believe is in July… that might seem like a long time, but there's quite a lot of this story left to tell.

**Chapter Sixteen – Far from Home**

"Colonel?"

John winced and stayed silent. He was standing alone on the balcony by the control tower, staring out across the still ocean. It was an hour after sunset, and the lights of the city were reflected in the dark water. He kept his eyes on the reflection of the city – if he didn't look at the horizon, he could pretend that everything was normal.

"I'm sorry, I know it wasn't what you wanted to hear."

John finally looked round at Woolsey, who was walking across the balcony towards him. Woolsey's face was drawn and he looked tired - John knew he'd been working round the clock for the past two weeks.

"It's what I expected, but it didn't make it any easier to hear," John admitted.

"I know," Woolsey said, stopping next to him. "It's not a never, though, just a... not now."

John gave Woolsey a look, and saw that Woolsey thought his words were as hollow as John did. John nodded anyway, and took a step back.

"Well, I need to get back to Torren," he said, heading towards the door.

"I'm not going to stop trying," Woolsey said as John walked away.

John paused by the door and looked back at Woolsey, managing to give him a weak smile. "Neither am I," he said.

There weren't many people around as John made his way back to his quarters. It was dinnertime and most people were in the mess. There were also a lot of people on leave, so the city was emptier than it should be. John took the transporter and made his way through the corridors.

John and Torren had moved when they'd returned from Earth, as John's quarters weren't nearly big enough for the both of them. Woolsey had clearly been in a good mood at the time, because he'd assigned John an incredible suite of rooms overlooking the East Pier. There was a huge bathroom almost as big as his old bedroom, a communal area, three large bedrooms and a massive balcony – so big that John referred to it as the 'terrace' instead. It had become a favourite haunt of the rest of the team, immediate and extended. Torren loved it too – he loved the outdoors, and John tried to let him outside as much as possible.

One good thing about their new situation was that John had more time to spend with Torren, and that was something John definitely wasn't complaining about. Torren was almost a year old now and was changing every single day. Torren had discovered that he could walk a couple of weeks ago, and was determined to use his new mode of transportation as often as possible, which meant that John was constantly on alert. He loved it though.

Also, Torren being older and more self-aware meant that John felt a lot more comfortable leaving him with others. Having been surrounded by dozens of people since his birth, Torren was pretty good with strangers – much better than John was – and so it didn't bother him when he was left with a babysitter he didn't know that well. Right now, though, he was with someone he knew very well – Ronon.

John shook his head as he approached the door to his quarters, unsure of what he would find inside. Ronon was Torren's favourite babysitter, and for one simple reason – he would wreak havoc to keep him entertained.

John opened the door to his quarters and was surprised to find the communal room relatively unscathed. A moment later he heard voices – multiple voices – and followed them out onto the terrace.

Ronon was out there, holding Torren's hand as the kid tottered around in a small circle. Ronon had to bend practically double to be short enough for Torren, and John grinned at the sight. Sitting at the round table to one side of the terrace were Amelia, Lorne, Carson and Radek, and on the table was what looked like most of the food from the mess hall. John's stomach rumbled at the sight of it and he found he didn't mind the intrusion at all.

"You guys need to get your own balconies," he quipped though, as he approached the table. He was greeted with smiles and good-natured grumbling about him having the only decent quarters in the city (so not true – Woolsey's were also amazing), and a high-pitched squeal from Torren who immediately tried to pull away from Ronon to get to John.

As always, John couldn't help a smile at the evidence of Torren's preference for him, and for his part he wanted nothing more right now than a hug from the little guy. He made himself stay where he was though, and crouched down so he was on Torren's level. He held out his hands. "Come on then," he said.

Ronon very carefully let go of Torren's hand and stayed close behind him as he tottered over to John as fast as his little legs could carry him. He was wobbly, and a couple of times Ronon had to grab the back of his jacket to steady him, but a few seconds later he reached John and threw his arms around his neck. John grinned and stood up with Torren in his arms and hugged him properly.

"He's getting good," Ronon said.

John smiled. "Yeah," he said proudly. "Eleven months and he's already running circles round me."

Ronon grunted. "That's not too hard."

The others laughed and John rolled his eyes. "Watch it, or you can go find somewhere else to eat al fresco," he said.

"Aye, and take all the food with us," Carson said with a smirk.

John smirked back. "Okay, I guess you can stay," he said. Ronon brushed past John to go and sit on a spare chair next to Amelia, but John wandered over to the balcony railing and looked out over the East Pier. His eyes raked across the pier and then over the water until, finally, they landed on the Californian coastline in the distance.

"So how did it go?" Lorne said after a moment. John looked over his shoulder and saw that all of them, even Ronon, were ignoring the food and staring at him, waiting to say something. This was the real reason they were all here – to find out what had happened in the meeting.

John sighed. "It was what we thought," he said. "Atlantis is to stay on Earth for the _foreseeable future_. The IOA isn't _ruling out _the possibility of the city returning to Pegasus at some point, but at the moment it isn't feasible or advisable to send it back." His voice sounded hollow even to him, and he turned back to scanning the coastline.

It had been two weeks since they'd made the trip from Pegasus to Earth – two weeks since they'd landed in the Pacific Ocean, in sight of mainland USA, and the city where John had spent many years of his life. And yet, standing on his terrace and being able to see San Francisco just made John feel uneasy.

Atlantis shouldn't be here. It didn't belong on Earth – not anymore.

Of course, being on Earth did have its advantages. Not having to worry about supplies, for one. No crazy alien storms or unexpected sea life to contend with. Torren would be able to have a semi-normal life – he could go to a proper school, have friends his own age, have access to toys and books and TV shows and movies that he just wouldn't have the same kind of access to in Pegasus. And, of course, no Wraith.

But, and it was a big but – probably the biggest but for John – they were completely cut off from the Athosians and the other people of the Pegasus Galaxy. Aside from not feeling at all comfortable at leaving them all to just fend for themselves against the remaining Wraith, it also meant that Torren wouldn't be exposed to the Athosian way of life. He wouldn't know Halling and Jinto and Marta and Amana and all the others who had been such a big part of Teyla's – and Kanan's – life. He would never know his parents but he deserved to know his heritage, and here on Earth he was completely cut off from it.

However, there was no denying that the Pegasus Galaxy was a dangerous place for a kid. Sure, Earth and the Milky Way had its own dangers, but most people on Earth were blissfully unaware that their planet had been at the centre of ferocious intergalactic battles for getting on for fifteen years. Very few in Pegasus could make the same claim. So, if Atlantis did take off for Pegasus tomorrow, would John be right in taking Torren back into that danger?

The simple answer was that he just didn't know. His gut told him that his place – and Torren's – was on Atlantis, and that Atlantis' place was in Pegasus, but his head always started to interfere.

"Well, how feasible _would _it be?" Carson said after another moment. "They would have to take the ZPM from the Antarctic Chair, wouldn't they? And that would leave Earth defenceless."

"Earth has four interstellar spacecraft and five more on the line, it's hardly defenceless," Lorne argued. "And with the Goa'uld and the Ori defeated, it doesn't need any more than that."

"Maybe not at the moment, but we always seem to find new trouble, don't we?" Carson said. No one had any argument against that rather pessimistic statement – it was true.

"But if we had the ZPM, wouldn't we be able to come back anyway if Earth was in trouble?" Ronon asked.

"Only if the flight back to Pegasus didn't max it out," Radek said. "And that's a big if."

"Well then what do we do?" Ronon asked.

"There's not much we can do right now," John said, walking over to the table and sitting down, Torren on his lap. He immediately grabbed for a bowl of fries, and John had to grab his hands and pin them at his sides. "Woolsey's not going to give up, and he's our best bet at getting back."

"Aye," said Carson. "It's down to negotiations."

Lorne snorted. "Well, I for one wouldn't want to be negotiating against Woolsey."

The others nodded. It was a sign of how things had changed for them all that they'd come to have such faith in Woolsey; when they'd first come across him he'd just been another particularly annoying member of the IOA. But Atlantis had changed Woolsey, and John often thought that he'd become more their leader than Carter ever managed. She'd been great at the job, but Atlantis wasn't her home – she was too invested in Earth. Most Atlantis personnel were misfits or people with shady backgrounds who'd finally found a place to fit in, and Woolsey was the same.

John didn't share this theory with the others, though.

They got down to eating the food, and talk moved away from the negotiations and back to the novelty of Atlantis being on Earth. Though John knew they were all as anxious as he was to get back to Pegasus, he also knew that they were happy to enjoy the benefits of being here while it lasted – that's why so many people were on leave.

"When are Rodney and Jennifer back?" John asked. They too had taken some leave and had gone to visit their families – Jeanie first, followed by Jennifer's dad. McKay had been freaking out before they left.

"This evening, I think," Carson said. "They were only going for four days."

"Yeah," Ronon said. "I spoke to McKay this morning – they should be back about now."

John nodded, not surprised that Ronon and Rodney had been in contact. They'd grown a lot closer after Teyla's death, especially since John was so busy with Torren now that he couldn't spend as much time with them both as he used to.

Sure enough, it wasn't fifteen minutes later that the doors of John's quarters opened again and Rodney and Jennifer walked through the rooms and out onto the terrace.

John looked up and smiled as they made their way over to the table. "Hey, welcome back," he said.

"Good trip?" Ronon asked them as they sat down in the empty chairs. John's smile faded as he saw the two of them shoot an odd look at each other. He noticed they were sitting kind of stiffly, as if they were uncomfortable about something.

"Yeah, yeah it was good. Erm..." Rodney said. He looked at Jennifer again, whose cheeks turned a bit pink.

John frowned. "What? What's going on?" He demanded.

Rodney swallowed. "We... erm..." he stammered. He looked at Jennifer again, and this time she smiled at him. "Well, we kind of... got engaged," Rodney said.

John blinked. "What?"

Rodney started to smile. "We're engaged," he repeated. "We're getting married."

John gaped at him. "You're – woah," he said.

"Oh my god!" Amelia exclaimed.

Everyone got to their feet, hugging and congratulating the couple, who were now grinning. "Congratulations, Rodney," Carson said, pulling him into a hug. Ronon stepped up next and gave Rodney what looked like a rub-breaking bear hug.

"Thanks – ow," Rodney said, rubbing his shoulder and glaring at Ronon as he pulled away. Ronon just grinned.

John had remained sitting for a moment, still a little floored. He should have seen it coming, really – after all, he'd expected them to get together before they even started dating, thanks to his encounter with the future Rodney hologram. Even so, he hadn't expected an engagement so quickly.

Torren let out a squeal of laughter, excited by all the hugging and grinning, and it reminded John that he should be on his feet too. He jumped up, shifting Torren onto his hip, and the first person he came face to face with was Jennifer. He grinned at her.

"Congratulations Jennifer," he said. He gave her one-armed hug, Torren giggling as he got a little squashed in between them. John looked down at Jennifer's left hand and saw that she was already wearing an engagement ring, which surprised him a little. John didn't think Rodney had planned to propose – he was sure he would have said something to him if he was – so he probably hadn't had a ring ready. He took hold of her hand to have a closer look – it was either silver or white gold, a modest-sized oval diamond set into it with two tiny diamonds on either side.

"I'm guessing you helped Rodney pick this out?" John asked her.

"Why d'you say that?" Jennifer asked.

"Because it's nice," John quipped. He was only half-joking, and he could tell from the way Jennifer was trying not to smirk that he was completely right.

"Hey!" Rodney exclaimed from a few feet away. He shouldered his way over to them, glaring at John. "I heard that."

Torren was reaching out for Jennifer, who was somehow one of his favourite people despite the fact that she stuck needles in him regularly, so John gave him to her and turned to face Rodney properly. He was looking at John a little warily, as though not sure how John was taking the news of his engagement, and John was once again regretfully reminded of how much cause he'd given his friends to worry about him in the past year.

He stepped forward and pulled Rodney into a hug, not quite as bear-like as Ronon's had been, but no less heartfelt. "I'm really happy for you," he said quietly before he stepped back again.

Rodney smiled and nodded. "Thanks."

They all sat down again, and John dug out a bottle of wine from his small fridge, and they all toasted the happy couple. As John had thought, the proposal hadn't been planned, and from the sounds of it had been a kind of mutual affair on the porch of Jennifer's dad's house. They'd agreed that they didn't want a long engagement, but that was far as they'd got with wedding plans.

"The only thing I've decided is that I'm not choosing a best man," Rodney declared, his gaze taking in John, Ronon and Carson, who were sitting across the table from him. "I'm having groomsmen, and you can all fight it out amongst yourselves."

"Okay," said Ronon.

John rolled his eyes. "He doesn't mean _literally, _Ronon," he said.

Ronon's face fell slightly, and he shrugged. They all laughed.

John watched Rodney and Jennifer – how comfortable they seemed with each other, how unbelievably happy they looked, and he smiled, really truly happy for them. But following on the heels of that thought was the thought that Teyla would have loved this moment, and John's smile faltered. He wondered then if he was ever going to be able to hear good news without wondering what Teyla would have said or done, and then wondered if he wanted to.

John felt a small hand on his chin, and looked down to see that Torren – who was back on his lap – was looking up at him with what passed for eleven-month-old concern. John smiled at him, and Torren immediately smiled back at him, proudly displaying his seven teeth. John pulled Torren up and hugged him against his chest, and went back to enjoying the evening with his friends.

TBC


End file.
